


when the tide turns

by unraelated



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Amputee Dimitri, Beach Sex, Captain Dimitri, Dedue's Family, Eventual Smut, M/M, MerMay, Mermaid Claude, Monsterfucking, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Slow Burn, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unraelated/pseuds/unraelated
Summary: Dimitri expects to go down with his ship. When he miraculously survives and finds himself stranded in a foreign land, he must start anew with nothing.Luckily, he has someone watching over him.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 101
Kudos: 615





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a 1-2k word quickie but it got insanely away from me... I hope that you guys enjoy!
> 
> There will be sex in later chapters, so avert your eyes if you're not into human on merman stuff...

The canons from the Empire took his right arm; the resulting shrapnel took his right eye.

And just like that, his war was over. He would have rather gone down with the ship than allowed himself to be captured, paraded around like some war criminal, and hanged within eyeshot of everyone whom he had once vowed to kill. He would have rather gone down with the ship than lived on in a world where he’d lost, a world where he’d failed his crewmen and their ghosts haunted the sea.

He would have rather done a lot of things. But after the battle, he came to on a long plank of wood, abandoned at sea, with salt caking his remaining eye closed. His right arm, gone from just below the elbow, had been haphazardly cauterized by the blow of the canon, tied with a clenchingly tight tourniquet that he’d applied on himself in the heat of battle with the use of his left hand and his teeth.

No food. No water. The next best thing to going down with his ship was going down at sea, and so he closed his eyes again and continued floating.

After two days and two nights, he considered rolling overboard and letting the sea take him. Hunger clawed at his belly, hurting more than even the useless stump of his arm, and thirst swelled his throat shut, until all he could do was groan and pray for death, without even the strength to throw himself to the sea.

When he awoke for what he was sure was the last time, it was to something wet touching his left arm. Dimitri mustered all of his energy to look downward and he saw - a headless fish. Still wet and dripping with life, and he couldn’t figure out where it had come from, but in his hunger-addled state of mind, he didn’t care. He reached for it with his fading strength and brought it to his mouth, eating it raw, his teeth crunching through the fine bones of it.

It wasn’t much, but the sustenance of it kept him alive for a fraction longer than he might have been otherwise. A bird could have killed it, he reasoned, beheaded it and then dropped it accidentally. A bird, this far out to sea…?

His stomach ached and he slept fitfully, awaking to another beheaded fish on the plank next to him, carefully positioned so that it could not slip off the edge.

The gods, maybe. It didn’t matter _where_ the fish came from to him in that moment of need, only that it was there.

He ate that one too. And then the third, sucking out the moisture from the flesh, a poor substitute for water.

When he awoke next, he was in a bed.

_

The family who took him in was kind, he thought, but deeply confused. They had given him water in his sleep, massaged his throat to make him drink, nursed him back from the brink of death.

He didn’t speak their language. He didn’t speak the language of anyone in this small fishing town, but through a series of hand motions and repetition, he came to learn that they found him on the beach, dragged him in and saved his life.

The family was poor by the looks of things. Even the younger of the siblings, a girl of no older than thirteen, went out to help her parents with the nets for catching fish in their small fishing boats. Dimitri knew a thing or two about sailing, but he kept his mouth shut to start with, focused on recovery.

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what nation he’d washed up in, how the war had finished with him being lost at sea and presumed dead. He only knew the low ache of his missing arm, the way he had to adjust to losing half of his sight, the strange way the sea had provided for him.

After a time, when he deemed himself healthy enough, he moved up to the mother while she was cooking one night and hummed to get her attention. She looked to him with bright eyes, holding her cutting knife still over the small potato she had managed to barter from the nearby farmers.

There were snapshots in his memory of her leaning over him, humming as she fed him and bandaged his wounds. He remembered her sewing next to his makeshift bed in the living room, watching over him in case he needed something.

He had to pay her back somehow.

Awkwardly, Dimitri pointed at the knife, then to his own chest. He mimed cutting along with her and she shook her head, pointing to the space where his arm once was and letting out a slew of words that Dimitri didn’t understand.

“Mm,” Dimitri shook his head, disagreeing with her, showing that he could lean on the stump to hold the food in place while he cut, but she wasn’t swayed. Frustrated, he sighed and walked away.

They fed him, but he knew that they did not have the means to do so forever. Without speaking the language, with only one arm, he had very little to offer them - or to anyone else.

Dimitri left that night for a walk and found himself by the pier, where he often spent his days in recovery. The family who had saved him was nice, kind beyond his worth, but without the ability to communicate with anyone and with the resounding ache in his heart that came from losing, surviving, and coming out the other side with _no one_ , he was terribly lonely.

He took off his shoes then, groaning as he sat on the pier and leaned against one of the vertical supporting logs that rose up above the corner. Like this, he could dip his feet into the nebulous ocean that had almost killed him and yet, kept him alive for reasons he could not yet understand.

He traced his fingers along the wooden edge of the pier and sighed. He knew there was no home left for him. If he went back, he’d be hanged. If he stayed, he’d be an outsider forever. He wished, not for the first time, that he’d gone down with his ship. There was no future. No hope.

Dimitri hummed softly, lonely enough that even the sound of his own voice was a comfort to him. There was no one to hear him on the shadowy docks, and as he worked a fingernail under a chip of the wood, the humming turned into soft singing of a song that his crew once would sing, out on the ship.

“Sweeter than the fresh rainfalls,” he whispered in a slow tune, prying up the wood, “Lovelier than home’s white walls… forget all your mother’s calls, the sea, she sings to me.”

Sylvain would substitute the words with a bawdy laugh, sing _lover_ instead of mother as they all cuffed him for bringing up the women that he’d left heartbroken at the shore. Annette would mix them all up, get the verses out of order and rather than making fun of her, they’d try to follow along so that she wasn’t embarrassed.

The memory of it riled something up in him and all of a sudden, tears threatened to spring to the surface, his eye wet and blurry.

“Goodbye all my riches there,” he continued, his throat closing up with emotion despite what he’d always considered to be a bit of a trite song, “goodbye all my maidens fair... leaving all my cupboards bare… the sea...”

“...she sings to me.”

Dimitri’s chin snapped up at the echo to his voice, a softer sound, like the wind whipping through an empty fireplace. It could have been a breeze over the water, he tried to reason, could have been the sound of the sea lapping away at the shore, but it sounded too close for that, and it was singing with him, the rise and fall of the notes inexplicably sounding like words in a language he knew.

It wasn’t possible, but then again - a lot of things that had happened to him lately haven’t been possible.

“Who’s there?” he asked, turning to look behind him, but there was no one on the docks. Hurriedly, Dimitri wiped the tears out of his eye to try and get a better look, but all that was around him were lonely fishing boats, tethered to the pier.

The air was still, eerie. Dimitri remembered the fish that had been left for him, saving his life, and he cautiously turned and looked back out toward the sea, as blackened as a piece of obsidian, glittering in the reflection of the moon.

“Goddess - if you’re out there… I don’t know why you saved me. Tell me your plan with me and I will be a vessel of your will. Tell me…”

But there was nothing, only silence.

The atmosphere was broken - what was once a peaceful evening was now transformed into something dark, unsettling. Dimitri slowly rose up to his feet and grabbed his shoes before walking back home.

_

The next morning, he woke to something heavy landing on his stomach with a _thud_. Dimitri’s eye flew open and he reached to grab at the offending item, only to find a small package that smelled of fish. 

He looked up and saw the older son - a tall, white haired man - looking down at him with a raised eyebrow and slowly went to sit up. The package smelled of fish because it _was_ fish, wrapped in brown paper. When the man went to sit at the living room table that was near Dimitri’s bed, Dimitri rose to go with him, carrying the package as he went.

The man pointed to himself and said: “Dedue”.

Dimitri wasn’t sure if that was his name or his job title or even the style of shirt that he was wearing but he nodded slowly regardless and said his own name when Dedue pointed at him. Pleased, Dedue reached to take the package from him and opened it up to reveal two fish, on the smaller side, but still edible.

He then reached into his pocket and scattered a mess of foreign coins on the table, silver ones with square holes in the center, a mess of large bronze ones, and one small, shiny gold coin that was cut in a square. Dimitri looked at them curiously and Dedue pointed at the fish and took four of the silver coins and showed them to Dimitri.

He just stared, quizzically.

Dedue sighed and pursed his lips in thought before handing one of the fish to Dimitri. He then picked up four of the coins again and held them out to him. When Dimitri went to take it, Dedue snatched his hand back and motioned for the fish.

 _A transaction,_ he realized and nodded quickly, offering Dedue the fish and taking the coins, warming at Dedue’s soft smile.

The rest of the morning was spent wordlessly learning the value of different sizes of fish, how many bronze coins equalled a silver coin and how many silver coins equalled a golden coin. Dimitri was well-versed in mathematics and caught on quickly, answering Dedue’s wordless questions when he was quizzed near lunchtime.

Lunch was a broth soup, and Dimitri ate silently while Dedue and his mother conversed in a language he could not understand. Dedue pointed at Dimitri a time or two, which made him feel self conscious, but the resulting smiles from the two of them put him a little more at ease.

After lunch, he went with Dedue outside, where they stored the fish in cool boxes and carried them on their back. They walked an hour to a nearby inland town, where Dimitri could see farmland sprawling out around them.

The town did not have a market; they went door to door.

Dedue seemed well known around here and at each door, he introduced Dimitri and said a few words in their language. After awhile, he motioned for Dimitri to knock on the door, which he did, and when an elderly woman answered, Dedue explained something in their language that she seemed to understand.

Standing in front of her, Dimitri wasn’t sure what to do, but Dedue cuffed him on the elbow with a little murmur and slowly, Dimitri brought down his pack and showed the woman what was inside, as he’d seen Dedue do in the past. She pointed to three of the large fish and Dimitri nodded, calculating the math out in his head as he moved to wrap them.

When she produced the coins, he counted them carefully before presenting them to Dedue, who smiled in that warm way of his and tucked them away. With the door closed, they moved back out onto the street and Dedue clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

“Dimitri,” he said triumphantly, and Dimitri found himself smiling in return. His first smile since the battle.

The walk home was easier, with lighter packs and heavier pockets. They made it home after dinner, and Dedue told his family what had happened while spooning them up a cold fish soup and handing him a bowl.

From the motions and discussions, Dimitri was beginning to piece together the meaning of this whole endeavor. There were only two siblings and the mother seemed concerned about the younger girl - Ashera, he thought was her name - going to sell fish in the neighboring town and so Dedue did it. Dedue selling meant that he was not helping with catching the fish, which meant that their portions were smaller.

If _Dimitri_ went, then Ashera could stay with the fishwives and work on nets while Dedue and his parents went on the fishing boats and earned a heartier share. After all, being a salesman didn’t require both arms or both eyes, or even a solid grasp on the language, as long as he was sure of the value of money. 

He was certainly tall enough to be intimidating, even with all the muscle he lost nearly dying at sea, and… well, the lack of an arm and eye only served to make him more frightening to look at, Dimitri reasoned.

If they trusted him with this, if he could help repay them somehow… that would be good enough for him.

He ate and went to bed, tired from the long day of walking, but feeling as if he’d made a small breakthrough all the same.

_

The days passed quickly after that. Dimitri earned his keep by walking to the neighboring farm town every day and selling off the fish that had come in. He kept none of the money and was more than happy to turn it over every night when he came back to Dedue and his family’s home.

After awhile, Dedue’s mother - Tarlei, he’d gleaned - began asking him to buy things while he was there. 

This confused him, but she sent him with a note that he gave to the first house he visited, who pointed him toward one of the farms down the road. When he arrived at that house, he offered them the same note and the farmer nodded, bringing out a small bag of onions and potatoes and motioning for his payment. 

Tarlei had drawn on the note how much he was to pay them and so Dimitri pulled out the appropriate coins and completed the transaction. When he brought home the vegetables that night, Tarlei smiled and hugged him for a job well done and they all ate a hearty stew for dinner.

He gradually began learning the language. The word for _fish_ was easy, and on the days that the fishermen didn’t go out to sea, Dedue set to teaching Dimitri the simple words of things around him: the table, the door, the bed. Dimitri listened and wrote things down in the small journal that was provided to him, and soon enough could speak in various nouns, could communicate by pointing and saying a word or two.

Still, on the nights when he was not too tired, he went back to the pier. He dipped his feet in the water and tried not to feel guilty for surviving when his friends had not, for abandoning his home and country after his loss in the war. He tried not to feel guilty for this new life, his new companions.

It was always a good opportunity to reflect on his life and where he was now, but at times it remained deeply unsettling to be there. He would set something - a small handful of nuts to eat as a snack - to his side and look out to the sea, and when he turned back, some of them were missing. The sea would still sing back to him if he gave it the opportunity, but never responded when he tried to talk to it. Once, as he was gathering his things to go, he found a silver earring inside of his shoe.

There was never anybody there, try as he might to find evidence of a person behind these strange happenings. He’d searched the boats one fitful night and found nothing and could swear that he heard the sea laughing at him.

He tried to ask Dedue about it, but how could he phrase his question when his grasp on the language was toddler-level at best? He grasped at Dedue’s arm and took him outside where they were in range of the pier and motioned toward it with his right elbow.

“Night,” he said in Dedue’s language, in what he was sure was a horrid accent, “Me. Pier.”

And then he motioned to his ears, as if to say that he heard something.

Dedue tilted his head and asked a question that Dimitri couldn’t follow. Dedue sighed at the confused look on his face and tried again, speaking slower this time, but there were still too many words that Dimitri didn’t know.

Finally, Dedue just pointed out to the water and said the word for _fish_ , which Dimitri understood, and then another word which he didn’t.

So, he kept selling the fish. He kept picking up the items Tarlei requested of him. He kept going out to the pier at night, and nothing changed.

Until something did.

_

By this time, Dimitri had realized that there was someone - or something - else with him there in the dark. Whether it was the act of the goddess or some foreign benevolent god, he could not deny that what had happened to him was nothing short of a miracle and subsequently could not deny that the things that happened to him out there on the pier were… unexplainable.

And so, he’d asked Dedue for a small amount of money. Not much, just enough to where he could save up to buy some things for himself, and Dedue granted him a salary. The first week, he bought a spare charcoal pencil for his journal - the first one gifted to him had been ground to the nub with sloppy scrawls as Dimitri learned to write with his non-dominant hand. The second through fourth weeks, he’d saved up for a new pair of shoes.

The fifth, he’d bought a ring.

It wasn’t a woman’s jewelry piece - the ring itself was crafted iron, with a small bit of knotwork carved into it. It was meant to be worn around the wrist by sliding it on sideways. The thing was a bit crude and not at all luxurious, but Dimitri had a meager salary and he didn’t want to take more from his gracious hosts than he felt was absolutely necessary.

Gods prefer offerings, he’d reasoned, and after Dedue had explained to him in short, simple words that his people believed in a god of the sea, Dimitri had put two and two together and decided that it was high time he repaid this presence that always seemed to be nearby.

When he went to the pier that night, he wrapped the arm ring in simple brown paper and crouched by the edge of the pier. This part, he wasn’t sure about. Should he throw it into the water? Leave it on the edge? Dangle it over the dock?

He decided to sit as he always did, letting his feet ripple in the water as he leaned over the edge and stared into the inky depths of the sea.

“I don’t know why you spared me,” he said finally, his voice low and husky, “every part in me wishes I’d died that day, with my crew. But… you did it for a reason. So I’ll keep living.”

Dimitri swallowed hard. The decision had been a heavy one, and one that had taken him awhile to make. For a time, he’d thought about tying his feet to a rock and sending it overboard, or taking his leave of this little family and going into the wilderness to be some predator’s dinner, but he didn’t.

The sea had saved him for a reason. He had to believe that. Even if the reason was to help this small family earn a little bit more coin, or if someday he would return to his homeland and reclaim his title and his lands… well, he’d let the winds take him where they willed.

For now, he had the sea.

He reached out and dropped the arm ring into the depths, watching as it fell beneath the surface with a _plop_ and plunged out of sight, far deeper into the inky darkness. Dimitri watched where it had disappeared to for awhile before sighing and leaning against the familiar vertical log that protruded up along the pier for stability.

 _Thunk_.

Dimitri turned at the sound behind him, his brows furrowed together at the sound of heavy metal against the wood of the dock. Resting innocently in a small pool of water on the wood behind him was the arm ring.

He reached out slowly to touch it, as if it might be poisoned somehow, but it was just wet. Gradually, he turned back out toward the sea, holding it delicately in his hands.

“This is… a gift,” he clarified, as if that wasn’t clear before. Did the sea god also not speak his language? “An offering.”

He dropped it again, watched it as it sank -

\- _there_.

Just before it vanished into the depths of the water, he saw something. A whip of motion, a reflection of the moon’s light in the depths. Dimitri craned his neck, leaning as far as he would allow, but he didn’t see it again.

_Thunk._

Again, the ring landed on the pier behind him. Dimitri turned back to look at it again, confusion and awe in his face. Now he knew: there was _something_ down there.

Dimitri grabbed for the ring again impatiently and once more, dropped it into the deep water, leaning further over as if to catch just another glimpse of what that odd reflection had been. There was nothing - at least, nothing that he could see with his one eye, and he stretched out as far as he could go to try and look.

“I don’t want it,” whispered a voice behind him, so close to him that it might as well be whispered in his ear.

Dimitri yelped and spun, the motion unbalancing him. Instinctively, he reached for the log to grab hold of so he didn’t tumble completely off the dock… but he no longer had that arm.

He fell gracelessly into the cold ocean, flailing in his surprise. Instinctively, Dimitri shut his eye and tried to swim, but in his panic, his baggy shirt was billowing up around his face. He couldn’t swim as efficiently without his right hand and, he realized, he hadn’t even tried since before he lost it.

He still would have made it of course, but he felt powerful arms around him, pulling him upward faster than he could have swam. The arms pushed him until his head broke the surface and he reached for the log pillar of the dock to wrap his good arm around, clinging to it and treading water as he caught his breath.

When he opened his eye, someone was staring back at him.

Dimitri’s heart froze in his throat and he resisted the urge to lash out at the man who had frightened him so. The stranger was entirely submerged in the water up to the bridge of his nose, and all Dimitri could see was the top half of his head: wet, dark hair, tanned skin, and bright green eyes.

He didn’t know what to do or how to react. They watched one another like that for what felt like hours but in reality was probably just a handful of moments. Dimitri clung tighter to the log and tried to think of what to say - what _could_ he say?

It was then that he noticed that the man’s head wasn’t bobbing in the water as if he was also treading, and with both his nose and mouth submerged, he’d had to have been holding his breath for this entire time. He watched Dimitri curiously and Dimitri reached for any semblance of thought.

“Who are you?” He finally asked in his native tongue.

The man cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, before he opened his mouth to speak - his still submerged mouth, and only bubbles came out, with the warping of sound that came from trying to say anything underwater.

Dimitri clutched tighter to the log, not quite understanding. Realizing his error, the man slowly lifted effortlessly out of the water, until Dimitri could see the scrap of facial hair at his jaw and the fine point of his chin.

“My name is Claude,” he said, his eyes wide, imploring Dimitri for some kind of response.

“D- Dimitri,” he offered in return. “Are you…”

How did he finish that question? _Are you the sea god_ seemed ridiculous, _are you lost_ also seemed stupid. Claude may have been a citizen of the fishing village, but to swim out here every night and play little tricks on him?

He swallowed hard.

“Are you the one that’s been… here, with me?”

Claude nodded, moving closer, his body cutting effortlessly through the water. Once he was almost too close for comfort, Dimitri kicked his legs out while treading water and felt something… odd and rough brush against his toes.

He looked down, but the water was pitch dark, as murky as oil.

“Your ship went down,” Claude told him, his voice in an odd, whistling pitch, the flutter of it like someone speaking through a moving fan, “I hunted for you until I could get you to safety.”

The headless fish. The only thing that kept him alive. Dimitri blinked in disbelief.

“ _What_?”

The man couldn’t have been any older than he was. How could someone have evaded his detection, out at sea? Where had he hid?

Why was his voice doing that?

“I steered you here,” Claude answered, as if that solved everything, “the people here are kind. Far away from your war.”

A surge of anger rushed through Dimitri, but he wasn’t sure why. All this time, he’d thought that there was some reason he was here, some divine intervention that gave him his life back for a _purpose_. But it was just - what, an excellent swimmer? A stowaway?

It still didn’t make sense, and he grimaced, squeezing out the flash of frustration so that he could keep asking questions.

“How? No man could have swam that far.”

At this, a devilish light flickered in Claude’s eyes and he slid closer still, until their noses were almost touching. Dimitri couldn’t pull back with his position clinging to the log, and Claude smiled, an expression that Dimitri didn’t trust.

Then, he felt it. A snake, some kind of powerful muscle, a scaled thing that slid around his ankles, tightened around his knees, pressed against his thighs. Dimitri looked down and saw nothing, held on tighter to the log to make up for the fact that he could no longer kick his legs, and he saw Claude do the same, reaching a hand up to hold himself up against the edge of the dock.

It was only then that Dimitri realized that the strange appendage that constricted him was _attached_ to Claude somehow, like a spindly leg but rougher, thicker, with the soft, fluttering feeling of something webbed and delicate against the inside of his knee, on his feet.

“I’m not a man,” Claude whispered, in a tone that was almost threatening and almost triumphant.

Dimitri could not quite believe what he was seeing - or feeling, rather, but Claude’s gripping onto the dock had raised his upper body slightly more out of the water, revealing his bare shoulders and the long column of his throat, which was marred by four identical slits on either side of his neck. Dimitri wouldn’t have noticed them at first, but every time Claude gasped a breath of air, they flared open ever-so-slightly.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that they were gills. That the appendage wrapping around his legs was a _tail_. That Claude was…

“...mermaids don’t exist,” he finally said on a shaking breath, and Claude could only grin.

“Oh, nobody told me. Guess I’d better poof into the ether, then. Or count my lucky stars that I’m a merman instead.”

Dimitri tried to shake the shock from his head. He must have been dreaming somehow, he must have fallen asleep before his evening visit to the docks, but the water was ice cold, cold enough that his toes were starting to go numb and it _felt_ real.

Everything felt real, even Claude’s long tail slowly slipping away from him, allowing him to tread water again.

“You saved me…?” he asked softly and Claude nodded, “Why?”

That seemed an odd question to him. Claude tilted his head, his large eyes curious and thoughtful as he released the dock and fell back, with barely a ripple of disturbed water around him. With full use of his tail again, he resubmerged himself to his chin and shrugged.

“You needed saving.” Claude’s nose wrinkled in a way that Dimitri had to describe as _cutely_. “Men weren’t meant to be that far out at sea, not when they’re trying to sink one another.”

“And my crew,” Dimitri could barely get out of his throat, his voice tight and hardly daring to be hopeful, “were any of them…?”

Claude’s eyes went sad there but again, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. There were a couple of us watching the battle from below. One of the others might have gotten one. I just got you when your ship went down.”

 _Got you_. Dimitri could only assume that Claude was the reason he woke up on a floating plank of wood at all. His mouth felt dry, his heart pounding in his chest.

“...why me?” he finally asked, barely a whisper. “I’m not… compared to the others, I wasn’t worth…”

“Saving?” Claude finished for him, and swam closer, circling Dimitri curiously as he looked over him. Dimitri felt suddenly like he was being _surveyed_ , as if Claude was inspecting every inch of him that was visible over the water. Instinctively, Dimitri hunched his shoulders, as if he could escape notice that way.

“It’s not like I could have taken a poll to decide who was the most worthy. There was fire and shrapnel and giant pieces of your ships sinking down there. Besides…” He shrugged, having swam a full circle around Dimitri and ended up back in front of him, where he smiled again - but this time, it was more friendly, “...you’re very handsome.”

Dimitri didn’t know what to say to that. He gaped at Claude, wordless and still feeling mildly in shock. This was a dream, it had to be. How else could he explain the way Claude looked at him, what Claude _was_ , or the whole explanation for this?

His arm slipped on the log and he winced, sliding further into the water and struggling to keep himself afloat. Claude tipped his head in response, frowning a bit.

“I think that’s enough for one day… Come on, let’s get you back up.”

Dimitri opened his mouth to protest, but Claude was already submerging himself again and Dimitri felt strong arms against his waist, gently prying him out from under the dock and pushing him up so he could easily grasp onto the edge. The hands left his waist, and then they were on his feet, propelling him upward so he could climb up without hardly any effort at all.

Safely on the dock, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, rolling to his back and looking up at the vast array of stars above him.

A merman. An actual merman.

There was something hard beneath his hip. When he reached for it, he found the arm ring that he’d bought, and he pursed his lips, trying to find his breath.

“Are you still there?” he asked the night sky.

“Yes,” came the response from beneath him, under the dock.

“Why didn’t you like the gift?”

It seemed like a silly thing to ask, but in the absurdity of the situation, it was all his brain could reach for.

“Iron irritates our skin. It burns, after awhile.”

“Oh.” Dimitri frowned, then - somewhat awkwardly, due to missing his dominant hand - slipped it on over his own wrist, looking over the crude knotwork carved into the edges. “Sorry.”

Claude let out a soft laugh, an airy thing, made inhuman by the odd fluttering of his voice.

“I’ll let you make it up to me.” A pause, and then - “Go inside, Dimitri. You’ll freeze to death out here, and then all of my efforts will have been in vain.”

Dimitri supposed that he couldn’t argue with that. With great effort, he heaved himself up and murmured his farewell, before dragging himself back to the shore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri continues meeting with Claude and putting the pieces of his life back together. When Claude finds himself in trouble, Dimitri rushes to help him with what little he can offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the overwhelming support on this fic! I hope you enjoy the new chapter! :) There was a bunch of fanart for the last chapter as well!!!
> 
> [This lovely piece](https://twitter.com/Pillow_boi/status/1259884849470545920) from [@Pillow_boi](https://twitter.com/Pillow_boi)
> 
> [This beautiful scene](https://twitter.com/requiemofkings/status/1259794010840854529) from [@requiemofkings](https://twitter.com/requiemofkings)
> 
> [This lovely doodle](https://twitter.com/hannilem/status/1261329565743382530) from [@hannilem](https://twitter.com/hannilem)
> 
> Thank you guys SO MUCH, you are all too sweet to me c: you really made this fic come alive with your works!!!

Dedue’s family was worried when he came inside dripping wet, but Dimitri waved them off with a smile and changed out of his clothing, washed up quickly, and finally sagged into bed, exhausted. The next morning, he wasn’t quite sure if it was all a dream or not, but the arm ring hung around his wrist, the heaviness of it an irreplaceable relic of what had transpired.

Dimitri laid in bed longer than he normally did on that morning, staring at the ceiling and absently stroking at the cool iron with the edge of his right arm.

A merman. A real, living merman. Dimitri wondered if it could have been a joke somehow, but dismissed the notion quickly - how could one create the sensation that Dimitri felt around his legs? How could one fake Claude’s gills, or the abnormal way in which he spoke?

How could one fake saving him?

The events that had transpired in the past few months were so outlandish that if the answer _wasn’t_ that he had a guardian merman looking after him, then it was something equally juvenile: a ghost, a god, or some other divine intervention.

Admitting that meant admitting that he was not saved by a higher power and that his life truly meant nothing. There were two sides to Dimitri on this - one who was enraged and wrought by guilt at living while his friends and crewman presumably did not, and one which was relieved by the idea that his life no longer had a purpose. He could be a fish salesman until the end of his days, if he wanted.

Though - he should someday move himself from the cot in Dedue’s father’s living room.

Until the previous night, he had been merely surviving by putting one foot in front of the other, allowing his recovery to occur from a place of numb brokenness; now that he knew what had been behind his miraculous survival, he felt further away from it, more able to see that it was not a miracle after all, merely the whim of…

...of a sea creature, one who had called him handsome. Dimitri didn’t normally think of himself in that way, particularly now that he had been rather crudely maimed, but he gathered that maybe a man who was half-fish didn’t have much to compare with.

Not that it mattered.

What mattered was what he was going to do next. His kingdom had fallen and him with it. Dimitri had the somewhat-attractive option of making his way back to the Empire and raising hell until he was eventually hanged, or the slightly-more-serene option of spending the rest of his days here, where he’d have to learn a new language, but also where he might be able to make a new friend or two.

Part of him knew that he didn’t deserve _new_ friends, that his old friends were corpses at the bottom of the sea, and part of him knew that if he started thinking about that - about _them_ \- then he might never stop, until he wasted away from grief.

And so he rolled out of bed, dressed himself, and began his day.

_

He didn’t know how to feel when he stepped onto the docks again that night, with the moon bright above him and reflecting off of the water like a bright, round stone. Would he be there again? Could they talk more?

In his day of reflection - Dimitri had a lot of time to reflect, since he lacked conversation partners - he’d thought of a lot of things that he wanted to say, to ask Claude. That was, _if_ he was actually real.

He sat on the edge of the dock as he usually did, but instead of removing his shoes, he sat cross-legged, staring down into the water.

“...are you there?” he asked, feeling a bit foolish, “Claude?”

There was a long pause, and Dimitri thought that he might not be. He didn’t know if Claude came to the docks every night, or if Claude had other things to do. He had to imagine that he did, but he couldn’t for the life of him think about what a merman could possibly spend his day doing. Catching fish in his teeth? Scouring the ocean floor for shiny rocks?

After a minute or so with no response, he sighed, but was content enough to at least relax here, looking out on the water.

A few moments later, there was a soft splash from the water beneath the docks and then he heard it: Claude’s voice, as odd as ever.

“I’m here, Dimitri.”

His heart was a lump in his throat. Dimitri took a deep breath and moved slowly, as if he might startle the creature under the water if he went too fast. He uncrossed his legs and got on his knees on the dock, before laying flat on his stomach with his head over the edge so he could look beneath the wooden boards, at the space between the surface of the ocean and the underside of the dock.

Two emerald gems glittered back at him from the darkness. They moved closer until Claude came slowly out from the shadows, blinking and shuttering his eyes. When he opened them again, they were less reflective, but no less beautiful.

It was real. All of it was real.

Dimitri wanted to touch him, wanted to jump back into the sea with him, but all he could do was stare at him, upside down while Claude moved so close that their noses were almost touching, with no concept of personal space - same as last time.

“I thought about you,” Dimitri told him, the blood rushing to his head, “all day. About what you said.”

“What did I say that entranced you?” Claude asked, his hand slowly rising above the water. Dimitri could feel it then - his hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that evening, but there were tendrils that escaped the band in his hair, too short or too cumbersome to tuck away, and Claude reached for them where they touched the water, combed them down into the surface of the ocean.

It felt… strangely good. Dimitri closed his eye, letting his thoughts jumble together, before refocusing on Claude’s hands, Claude’s impossible eyes.

“...you called me handsome,” he told him, though it felt incredibly silly now, among all the other things that were weighing down on him. _You know how to get me home,_ he should have said, _you know where your friends might have taken any more survivors_. But what came out of his mouth was… this ridiculous thing, as if such a thing as _attractiveness_ mattered to him.

But Claude - oh, Claude was _delighted_ to hear that and he let out a small squeak of amusement, his eyes lighting up (not literally, not like before), one of his hands clapping over his mouth.

“You _are._ I’ve seen many men and I haven’t liked them very much, but you - when you fell into the sea, it looked as if your hair had fallen out of the sun.”

It was so strangely and unexpectedly poetic that it twisted something deep in Dimitri’s gut, and this - whatever it was, this friendship, this kinship, this simple connection of speaking the same language and facing down his savior - he could feel it solidifying between them, like a fishing line tethering his heart to Claude’s and he knew right then without a shadow of a doubt: there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him.

“I want to see you,” he said suddenly, in a rush, “all of you. I want to know… what the rest of you is like.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” Claude smiled, looking almost catlike instead of - well, like what he was. He inched closer, and then Dimitri felt Claude’s mouth on his forehead, the cupid’s bow of his mouth brushing against Dimitri’s brow as he kissed him.

His lips were wet and warm, and the contact felt electrical. The tip of Claude’s nose poked into the bridge of his own and when Claude pulled back, Dimitri wanted to tip his head and kiss him for real, but his reach was too short with his awkward position on the dock.

“But no one else can see me. To expose myself in the daylight is… too risky, especially near a town. Here -”

Claude swam backwards then, bringing his hips up so he was semi-floating on his back underneath the docks. Before Dimitri could really understand what was happening or what he was doing, something wet and incredibly light slapped him in the face, feeling not unlike a wet silk shirt that someone dragged over his nose and across his cheek.

“What -”

But it was Claude’s _tail_ , he suddenly realized amidst Claude’s laughter, and in the fragments of it that he managed to catch sight of, it seemed long and impossibly bright, gleaming a brilliant gold in the moonlight. The light of it faded as Claude swam forward again, situating it beneath him where it lay hidden in the inky blackness of the sea.

“Good enough?”

 _No_ , he wanted to say, _nowhere near good enough_ , but it was what he had. It was seeing it, the actual evidence of what Claude was - not just feeling it, as he had the night prior, wrapping around his legs, or taking Claude’s word for it, or even seeing Claude’s gills or the strange way his eyes seemed to gleam like beacons in the darkness.

Dimitri nodded mutely, and Claude closed the distance between them again, bumping his nose against Dimitri's forehead.

“Good. You’d better go.”

“You’ll be here,” he asked, finding his voice again, his head beginning to pound with being held upside down for so long, “tomorrow? I’ll come out every night.”

“I’ll be here,” Claude assured, smoothing his hand over Dimitri’s cheek.

And he was.

_

The days passed much the same, but in the weeks that followed Dimitri spent every moment he could in Claude’s presence. Sometimes he laid out on his back on the dock, staring up at the sky and talking to the voice beneath him, sometimes he stuck his head upside down to look at him again, and a few rare times when he was feeling particularly daring, he stripped down to his underthings and got into the water with him.

Claude had no semblance of personal space. He’d touch Dimitri, pushing and pulling him through the water, he’d get right close to him while they spoke in a way that was unnerving and also somehow attractive. He’d tell Dimitri about his life in the water, what he did all day - which was apparently, not much - and where he came from.

Dimitri learned that Claude didn’t know much about the origin of merfolk. (“As far as I know,” Claude had said on a sigh, “we _are_ children of some sea god. None of us know our parents, all we have are our clutchmates.” “And where are they?” Dimitri asked, and Claude playfully shoved him away and changed the subject). He learned that Claude hunted and ate fish mostly, and that he ate them raw.

A week’s worth of his savings were enough for a beautifully ripe peach, as fruit was exceedingly rare due to the lack of rainfall in the farmlands. One night, Dimitri brought one and carefully cut it in half before handing it to Claude.

Claude’s eyes lit up when he bit into it, delighted by the sudden sweetness of the flavor, and before Dimitri could blink, he’d eaten it all and stared hungrily at Dimitri’s other half. Dimitri had sighed on a smile and cut his half in half again, giving one of the remaining pieces to Claude, who squeaked with joy.

(“You leave for hours almost every night,” Dedue had observantly told him, for by now Dimitri was adept enough at the language to understand simple sentences, and could communicate reasonably well with his gracious hosts.

“I like to walk,” he’d replied, shrugging, and that was the end of it.)

Spring eked into Summer, Summer to Fall. Dimitri had befriended some of the farmers in the nearby village and negotiated to work some of the fields during the harvest. It kept him away from Dedue’s lovely home, but earned him more money, as he wasn’t paying the farmers in labor for his room and board.

The days were long and he worked tirelessly through them, collecting large bushels of onions and giant baskets of potatoes. He bought little, except for small gifts for Claude now and again, and tried to save everything he made.

He didn’t know what he was going to do with it, really. He knew that he couldn’t live with Dedue and his gracious family forever, even though he’d celebrated Ashera’s birthday with her and she had embraced him like her own brother, even though it was now common for him to help Tarlei in the kitchen for dinner, or to have long conversations with Dedue over a warm meal.

He was imposing, he knew that much, and for all that his gratitude toward his hosts turned into a warm, familial love, he knew that he could not impose forever. Ashera was old enough that she could start selling the fish instead of him, and he ate more than her. Every small coin that they gave him was a coin that they could have spent on more food, better shoes, a new hat.

So he had to leave, but even sea shacks were expensive, as he would have to purchase the land or else rent, and after the payments from the harvest would go away in Winter, he wouldn’t have a steady income. He needed something more stable, more routine, but the amount of reliable work available for a one armed, one eyed man was scarce.

He recounted most of this to Claude late in the season and was met with only a dull murmur of acknowledgement, not quite Claude’s usual faire - but then, Claude had been getting quieter and quieter lately.

Dimitri turned from where he was laying on the dock, lowering his head beneath it to get a look at his friend.

“Claude?”

But Claude’s shoulders were hunched up around his ears, his naked arms wrapped tightly around himself, and when he looked up to Dimitri, it was without his usual smile.

“Sorry. I’m just…”

“Claude,” Dimitri repeated, more concerned this time as he pulled back to immediately start for his boots, so that he could get into the water with him, “what’s wrong? Are you sick? I’m not a doctor, but I can - “

“Relax,” came the chiding voice from under the dock, and Dimitri hesitated, “don’t get in. Come look at me again.”

Dimitri hesitated before letting go of his half-laced boot and laying back down to look at the merman huddled up against one of the legs of the dock. Claude smiled at him then, but it seemed a little shaky, and he moved up to get close to him, as he always had, their foreheads almost touching.

“I have to tell you something.”

Dimitri nodded, concern for Claude overtaking his more frivolous worries.

Claude sighed, reaching up to touch Dimitri’s hair, as he often did. “It’s nearly winter, Dimitri. It’s getting cold.”

Of course. What an idiot he was, to assume that Claude could just stay with him forever. Claude didn’t have the option of bundling up, of going inside and having a hot soup… no, he was here all day, at the mercy of the elements, unable to even get close to a fire to warm himself up.

Dimitri shifted so that he could get his intact arm out from under him, to lower it into the water near his head. It was absolutely frigid.

“What do you normally do in the winter?” he asked, knowing that the answer would break his heart.

“I leave,” Claude told him simply, looking downward, “for warmer waters. Our bodies aren’t meant to survive this - I’ve tried enduring, but we haven’t even seen the first snowfall yet and I’m… not doing well with it.”

Dimitri shook his head, needing suddenly to be with him, to be close to him, to wrap him up in his body and warm him somehow. He toed off his boots then and shifted to slowly lower himself into the water, clothes and all.

Claude made a noise of protest, but when it was clear that Dimitri wouldn’t stop, he quieted down. Once submerged - _goddess_ , it was fucking _icy_ \- Dimitri hooked the crook of his bad elbow around the pillar and reached his good arm out for Claude.

Unable to stop himself, Claude moved toward him, lifting his hands to him, tucking his head underneath Dimitri’s chin. The man was cold, and this close, Dimitri could see the faintest shades of blue in his cheeks, at the tips of his fingers.

He pulled him close, as if he could somehow warm Claude’s frigid body with his own, despite the water around them both.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, and Claude shook his head.

“I didn’t want you counting down the days until I’d gone. I didn’t want you to dread it.”

Dimitri’s eye sank shut and he let out a long breath, tightening his grip on both Claude and the log, trying to keep himself afloat throughout it all.

“When would you have gone, if not for me?”

There was a long pause, and then -

“A month ago.”

It was soft, defeated, and it sent a frisson of fear through Dimitri’s heart.

“ _Claude_.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I just - “

Dimitri shook his head. “Can you even migrate now? Is there enough time?”

“Maybe.” But he didn’t sound sure. Dimitri closed his eye as his mind raced, to everything he could do, everything he had. 

He could somehow buy a boat, use it to sail to warmer waters with Claude and Claude could come on board if he got too cold - but the smaller fishing boats wouldn’t be able to handle the open sea.

He could send Claude away. He had no way of guaranteeing that Claude would survive the trip, or knowing if Claude could come back to him, but the sooner he left, the better his chances would get.

His toes were already starting to go numb. How did Claude _stand_ this?

“What can I do?” he asked, desperate, “I’ll do anything. I have some money. Just tell me.”

Claude sighed, heavy in Dimitri’s arms.

“We could… _you_ could buy one of those shacks you were talking about,” he offered, contemplative and a little weary. “Take me inland for the winter. But I’d be reliant on you and it’s asking too much, I -”

“I’ll do it,” Dimitri told him immediately, “I will. I’ll have to… it’ll take me a few days to make arrangements. I’ll find something. I need - what, a pool for you? A,” his mind raced, “- can you survive outside of water?”

“Don’t forget yourself,” Claude supplied, leaning back and frowning, “you need bedding and food, and… Oh, I’m useless on land, I wish I could - “

He cut himself off abruptly and Dimitri tilted his head, confused. He opened his mouth to ask what was the matter, but Claude pushed himself away and suddenly smiled the way he used to smile, before diving back down and leaving Dimitri shivering and cold in the dark water.

Claude was gone for several minutes. Dimitri considered going back up to the dock, he was _freezing_ , but just as he was about to leave, Claude resurfaced, pressing in close to Dimitri’s chest again, before bringing his hands up above the water to show Dimitri what he was carrying.

Dimitri’s eyes went wide. Clutched inside of Claude’s fingers was a handful of what looked like expensive jewelry: women’s rings, bracelets, earrings, and even a few of the coins that were used as money in the village. Dimitri blinked and Claude smiled, breaking the handful up into two so that he could get closer to Dimitri and reach his hands down, shoving the treasures in his pockets.

“People lose things in the ocean all the time,” Claude explained, “I - well, all of us, really - like to collect them. Maybe you can sell some of it, or trade it for the money you need?”

“I can try.” Dimitri frowned though, trying to get a better grip on the log so he could pull Claude closer. “Will you be alright for another day? I promise, I can put something together by tomorrow, but I -”

“You’re so earnest,” Claude teased, cutting him off. Dimitri frowned and thought that if there was _ever_ a time to be earnest, it would be when one of your only friends was freezing to death, but then he felt the oddly comforting sensation of Claude’s tail brushing up against his feet as they both tried to stay afloat, which shouldn’t have made him feel better, but it did. “I’ve survived this long… I’ll be fine. But _you_ need to get out of the water, before you get sick and then aren’t of use to anyone.”

Reluctantly, Dimitri nodded. As much as he wanted to fix things for Claude right then and there, he couldn’t. At least, not when he was in the water with him.

“Alright,” he said softly, pulling himself away so that Claude could boost him back up onto the dock. “Nobody else will be up at this hour, but I can start looking for empty places… I’ll wake up as early as I can tomorrow and try to figure out how to buy one.”

There was a long pause and Dimitri was concerned that Claude would tell him off again or would insist that he’d be alright for the night - but maybe it _was_ worse than he thought, because Claude only gave him a small murmur of acknowledgement, after which Dimitri reluctantly left the docks and went back to the home.

_

“Did you fall?” Dedue asked him as soon as he walked in the door, alerted to Dimitri’s waterlogged state as he stood and went for a threadbare towel to offer him. Dimitri sheepishly accepted it and tried to wring out the water from his hair and clothing so that he didn’t track it across Tarlei’s swept floor.

“Yes. Do you know of, um…” Dimitri tried to ask, searching for the right words, “- I’m looking for a place to live.”

“In the water?” The arch on Dedue’s eyebrow was a little comical and Dimitri made an exasperated sound, to which Dedue lifted a hand, as if trying to calm him. “I’m sorry. Why do you need to find a place to live?”

There was a pause, and Dimitri wasn’t quite sure what to say and he looked down at his feet then, biting at his lip. His urgency seemed to speak whatever his words could not and so Dedue shook his head, opening his mouth again.

“Let’s get you into dry clothing. Then we can talk about this.”

Dimitri moved for his makeshift bed in the living room and the small sack beneath it that held all of his possessions in the world - which weren’t many. He had two full changes of clothes now, both of which were some of Dedue’s old things that he’d been given after he’d washed up up on shore. The clothing was well taken care of, patched when it became too threadbare, and gently washed. Dimitri treated them with the same care, and stepped into Dedue’s bedroom to strip out of his waterlogged clothing and into a fresh pair.

Once changed, he went outside to hang the wet clothes up on the clothesline, knowing full well that they’d be still with salt the next day and would need to be properly washed - but he didn’t have time for that.

Dedue rounded the house while he worked, bringing the towel that Dimitri had used to dry off with and moving to hang it next to the rest of the clothing.

“Dimitri,” he said, focused on the clothespins, “It’s late. Can we talk about this tomorrow, with my parents?”

There was a pause. Dimitri bit at his lip, looking out into the inky blackness of the night.

“I need to find a place tomorrow. As soon as I can.”

“Why?” Dedue asked, turning on him once the job was done. “Are you unhappy with us?” 

Dedue’s expression was confused, hurt almost, and Dimitri felt guilt bubble up from within him, threatening to spill the truth from his mouth. In that moment, he thought of Claude, alone in the ocean, his heart slowing as he froze. It gave him the strength to shake his head, to remain resolute.

“I’m… it’s not you. I’m trying to help someone.”

“The person you’ve been meeting with?”

Dimitri went still, his hand frozen where he’d pinned the last of his waterlogged clothing. How much did Dedue know? He recalled their conversation months ago, when he’d tried to ask him about the strange thing in the water, and Dedue had said something he didn’t understand.

Did he know about Claude? Or merfolk in general? Or did he just assume that Dimitri had somehow found himself a sweetheart during all of his long walks at night?

Dedue must have caught Dimitri’s apprehensive stare because he took a step forward, gentle as he laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Can I help?”

Dimitri had learned the word _secret_ during Ashera’s birthday. Dedue’s mother had whispered it to him when they were planning the festivities, but he hadn’t needed to speak it until now. He looked down at the brittle grass beneath their feet and bit his lip, hesitant.

Dedue was a good man. He knew this. Dedue was one of the best men he’d ever met, and had proven himself to be kind, understanding, and endlessly patient. With Dedue’s help, his knowledge about the town and the various homes here, Dimitri would be able to have a much faster time finding a place to house both himself and Claude.

And time was important. _Time_ could make all the difference.

Still…

“I… yes, I need help,” he admitted, though it tore at him to say such a thing. Until then, he had tried to forge his own path, stubbornly refusing to let his physical limitations get in the way of anything, but when Claude’s life was on the line…

Dimitri closed his eyes, breathing out a long sigh.

“But… it’s for someone else.” He searched for the right way to say the words together, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. “A secret. But it is not my secret to tell. I cannot - um, explain to you.”

Dedue appeared to think that over, but his hand did not leave Dimitri’s shoulder. He looked at Dimitri for a time, and it felt as if he was looking _through_ him, his eyes piercing Dimitri as if he could simply pin him down and wrest all his secrets from him that way.

“Dimitri,” he finally said, his voice soft, “you are an honorable man. I trust you. I’ll help you.”

With those words came both relief and anxiety. Dimitri _was_ relieved that he would not have to try and figure this out alone, but at the same time, was concerned at how Claude might react if he’d known that Dimitri roped someone into helping him. But Dedue wouldn’t betray him, he knew. And as much as Dimitri hated to ask someone else for help, it was an immense relief to know that he did not have to be by himself while he tried to figure out this impossible task of saving Claude.

He was grateful in that moment, to whatever god was out there, for putting him in Dedue’s path, for allowing the two of them to meet and grow close like this. Dimitri slid closer without thinking, embracing Dedue in a hug.

Dedue wavered for a moment, clearly not quite expecting the contact, but embraced Dimitri in turn, squeezing him comfortingly before letting him go.

“Now… what do you need?”

_

The shack barely had two rooms in it, with no kitchen and an outhouse that was little more than a hole dug in the ground with short wooden walls erected around it for privacy. It shuddered in the wind, which infiltrated through the cracks in the walls and the disrepaired roof, which would need tending to before the snowfalls collapsed the whole thing entirely.

It belonged to Dedue’s cousin - or his uncle, Dimitri wasn’t sure of the familial term - but he had since moved to a new home with his new wife and was willing to sell it for cheap just to be rid of it.

It needed work. A lot of work. The firepit outside would suffice for cooking, but the lack of heating inside would be a problem. Dimitri supposed that if he was careful, he could use the fire outside to heat coals to bring inside, but it wouldn’t be perfect.

They didn’t need perfect, though - they just needed _functional_.

“Are you sure?” Dedue asked him, a bit hesitant when Dimitri said he’d buy it. The Molinaro family had not been rich, but their home was always warm and inviting. This… well, this was a hovel.

But it would be a hovel for himself and for Claude, and so Dimitri nodded, moving into the second room.

There was a bath there - a wooden one that was supplied with water through a bucket and the pump outside. It wasn’t as large as he’d hoped but again, they needed something workable, not something perfect. With the curtain drawn, the bath could be obscured, which could hide Claude from any sudden visitors.

“I’ll still need… help,” Dimitri said quietly, looking over the bare dirt flooring and considering how much furniture might cost him, “I have nothing to my name. I can’t -”

“We will help you,” Dedue assured, reaching an arm around Dimitri’s shoulder, “it’s because of you that we’ve been able to save so much for the winter. Take the cot and your bedding, and tell us if you go hungry.”

Dimitri nodded quietly, thankful beyond words. He would still need things, pots and pans and firestarters, but he still had money leftover and still had Claude’s treasures that he could try to sell. It would work.

It would. It had to.

_

“This isn’t going to work.”

Claude squirmed uncomfortably, alarmed as Dimitri tried to lift him from the water to the docks. Close like this, with his arm around him, Dimitri could feel small, fragile fins along Claude’s spine, and when he tried to reach down for him his hand slipped on scales.

It was late - late enough that no one would be awake to see Dimitri awkwardly try to lift a half-man from the water and stumble back to his new house with him. If he had his other hand, he could try to carry Claude like one might a bride, but he didn’t, and Claude was far too large and too heavy to be carried with only one arm.

Dimitri finally relinquished him, huffing in exertion as Claude slipped back into the water.

“I can try to find… a sling, maybe.”

“And drag me over every splinter and nail on the dock? Ouch.” Claude stuck out his lip, pouting, and Dimitri stared at him helplessly.

“Can you walk on your arms? Maybe I could carry your…” He made a gesture.

Claude’s expression transformed with impressive speed: from looking incredulous, to mildly horrified when he realized that Dimitri was _serious_ , to something that seemed altogether too wounded for the kind of comical predicament that they’d found themselves in.

“Dimitri, I will _not_ walk on my arms.”

Dimitri grit his teeth together, crouching down low on the dock again and reaching for Claude’s arm.

“Then let’s… try this again.”

“It won’t _work_ ,” Claude said, suddenly petulant, like Dimitri’s earlier suggestions had offended him on a deeper level.

“What am I supposed to do?” Dimitri asked, his frustration bleeding through in his tone, “I’m trying to figure this out. I’ve done everything I could to help you, and I-”

“You’re going to have to do a lot more!” Claude yelled suddenly, cutting him off and startling Dimitri silent. In all their time together, Claude had never raised his voice at him. Dimitri wasn’t even sure it was _possible_ for him to, and so then all he could do was stare while Claude pulled back in the water, his lower lip quivering - though that might have been the cold.

The air seemed thick with the silence between them, and Dimitri slowly lowered himself to sit on the dock, giving up his frantic attempts to somehow lift Claude up with him and instead he just watched him while Claude worked through his own feelings.

After a few long beats of silence had passed, Dimitri tried again, his voice sounding far calmer than he felt.

“What do you mean?”

Claude swallowed thickly and sank lower into the ocean, submerging himself for a long few moments. Dimitri only knew he was still there from the thin shadow just underneath the surface and the telltale stream of small bubbles that traveled upward from his nostrils.

Eventually, he came back up, his jaw tight as he stared pointedly at the dock, not able to meet Dimitri’s eye.

“If I go up there, with you… I’m going to be entirely dependent on you.” Dimitri opened his mouth to speak, but Claude shook his head, cutting him off. “No. You don’t realize - I’ll be _helpless_ , Dimitri. You have to feed me, to change the water, and I’ll be… trapped. I’m going from the ocean into one tiny room in one tiny house. No, even worse - a tiny bathtub inside of a tiny room.”

Dimitri paused to let that sink in. His gaze lowered as he realized what he was asking for Claude, realizing that while he’d been so caught up in the idea of _saving_ him, he hadn’t realized exactly what saving him might mean for Claude.

Looking at it that way, it seemed like a prison. It seemed terrifying, that kind of vulnerability, the helplessness of the situation that he was putting Claude into. And yet…

“You’ll freeze to death out here if you don’t.”

Claude nodded shakily, still unable to quite look at him.

“Freedom or survival? It’s not exactly an easy choice.”

Dimitri longed to get into the water with him, to reach out and touch him, to comfort him with some form of physical contact, but Claude was too far away, closed off, _afraid_. Dimitri didn’t know how to assuage that fear now that he knew it was there, but he knew that he couldn’t leave Claude out here to die, not when Claude stayed here for so long for him, because of him.

“...not even if the survival is with me?” he asked, softly. Claude looked up at him with his impossibly large eyes, reflecting a deep green in the moonlight, and Dimitri reached his hand out to him, his fingers steady in the frigid evening air.

“I promise to take care of you. To feed you, even if I go hungry. To keep you warm. To keep you company. I’ll stay with you, and I’ll bring you back out to the ocean any time you want. I can’t give you more than those promises, but know that I will never break them.”

Claude breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes slowly, contemplative, which was not quite the heartfelt reaction that Dimitri was hoping for, but he supposed that given the circumstances, it was understandable. Finally, he nodded once, making his decision and opening his eyes again, narrowing them on Dimitri.

“Don’t let me down,” he demanded, though it seemed like more of a plea.

Dimitri met his gaze and did not allow himself to waver, even for a moment.

“I won’t.”

It seemed to do the trick. Claude steeled himself and reached for Dimitri’s hand, touching their palms together in a gesture of trust.

“Let me get some things, then - meet me on the beach, over there.” He pointed, and Dimitri followed the gesture to the small rocky shore that he’d washed up on, all those months ago. He nodded and moved to stand so he could make his way over.

Claude joined him after a few minutes with a wet satchel slung over his shoulder, full and heavy with what Dimitri assumed were his belongings. Dimitri watched as Claude’s dark hair surfaced over the inky black ocean, and kept watching as Claude swam closer and closer, until he was close enough to the beach that he could no longer swim in the shallowness of the water and pressed his palms against the ground, his teeth grit as he dragged himself further inward, beaching himself at Dimitri’s feet.

“Dimitri,” he breathed, but Dimitri didn’t hear him, not at first.

In the gentle light of the barely-there moon, Dimitri saw his lower half for the first time, in full glory - not the flashes of color or hints of scales, but _all_ of him. His tail was long and thin, longer than Dimitri would have expected, ending in a soft billow of tender fins. There were fins along his spine as well, the ones he’d felt before, but he did not know that they extended in a line down his backside, branching out into long, elegant shapes, looking as fragile as a tissue, but impossibly beautiful.

And then, there was the fact that even in the moonlight, his scales gleamed an impossible gold color, as if the creature before him was part statue, a solid gold carving, rather than a living thing.

Along his fins, which seemed as if they were made of precious metals rather than flesh, were streaks of a brilliant green accenting it all, the same green which matched the way his eyes gleamed at night, reflective and metallic.

It stole Dimitri’s breath away to realize that _this_ is the person he’d been conversing with all this time. Before he met Claude, he’d thought him a god, but upon seeing him in full for the first time, Dimitri suddenly thought that he’d been too quick to dismiss it as a possibility.

“Dimitri!” Claude said, a little louder, and Dimitri snapped out of his reverie and immediately knelt to him, apologetic as he saw the state that Claude was in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching out to touch Claude’s face, to see the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, like emeralds carved from the same precious stone as his tail, “it’s just - you’re beautiful.”

That was enough to give Claude pause, and he stared up to Dimitri for a moment, before letting out a long sigh, which flared open the gentle slits of his gills.

“Yes, well… those stories of sailors jumping overboard and drowning themselves to see us aren’t exactly all fictional. But - come on, there’s no time for that.” He twisted awkwardly, trying to pull his tail further into the rocks. “Turn around. I’ll climb onto your back. You carry my tail in your arm.”

Dimitri nodded, agreeing that this was probably the better way to transport Claude, and turned obediently, trying to keep himself still when he felt Claude clamber up onto his shoulders. His hands were wet, as was his chest, and he dripped icy water down Dimitri’s back, but he tried to keep still.

Claude heaved himself as upright as he could go, scrabbling to get his arms around Dimitri’s shoulders and locking his hands around his own wrists, holding on tightly enough that Dimitri thought he might choke.

So far, so good. Dimitri reached behind him, his fingers trailing over Claude’s back until he found the first trace of scales, and then dragged his hand lower and lower, until he found a place where the flesh was malleable enough to bend to his gentle tugging.

“Careful,” Claude breathed, warning him, and Dimitri nodded as Claude tried to help, flopping his fins forward into Dimitri’s grip. His other arm, the one that ended just below his elbow, reached back behind him as well, just barely long enough to rest the edge of it beneath the bulk of Claude’s weight, where his rear might be if he was a human, to try and support him.

Slowly, he moved to stand.

 _Goddess_ , Claude was heavy.

“Next time,” he gritted out from between his teeth while his legs strained to get them both upright, “I am borrowing a cart.”

“You should have done that already,” Claude retorted, from just behind Dimitri’s ear. He was wet and slippery, and the sheer bulk and length of his tail made it awkward for Dimitri to carry with one arm. After he’d shifted to try and push Claude up higher on his back, he reached his half-arm out to try and give more support to the long appendage that dipped precariously in front of him, worried that he was going to trip over it and hurt them both.

“I didn’t know you were so _big_.”

Claude laughed and said something that Dimitri thought was vaguely dirty, but he didn’t hear him entirely through the focus that he needed to slowly put one foot in front of the other, taking his first shaking steps further into the shore.

It took over an hour to walk the short distance to his home.

With each step, Claude’s arms tightened across his shoulders and throat, and Dimitri could _feel_ the shift from behind him, as Claude’s anxiety grew the further he was taken inland. Instead of feeling pressured by it, the amount of trust that Claude put in him gave him strength, and Dimitri used that strength to keep carrying Claude closer to his shack, through the first peek of the morning light on the horizon.

Luckily, Dimitri had pre-filled the bathtub with seawater that he’d carried in on a bucket through several hours of laborious trips to and from the ocean. The shack itself was not too far away, but far enough to be isolated from the rest of the town, built for a single fisherman rather than a family.

Still, they struggled to get there, and when Dimitri finally shouldered the front door open, his arms and legs both felt like they were about to give out on him. He carried Claude the rest of the way and Claude - whether still afraid of their arrangement or just as tired as Dimitri - didn’t complain about the size of the tub or the state of Dimitri’s shack as Dimitri turned and lowered him gently into the bath.

There was a large _splash_ as Claude’s tail slipped out of his arm and into the water, followed by Claude _finally_ releasing his shoulders and sliding backward into the bathtub.

Dimitri felt for the bruises that he knew were dotting his shoulders as he turned, watching Claude submerge himself in the water. The tub was too small and a long section of his tail slipped out of the end, but if Claude sat up in it, he could get his tail underneath the water. Dimitri thought that if he curled up tightly he could get his entire body under - though it probably wouldn’t be comfortable.

Claude looked at his surroundings with a trace of apprehension and then slowly took his shoulder bag off and set it, soaking wet, on the small table next to the tub. Dimitri watched him as he grew accustomed to the room and experimented with how he could fit into the bathtub, easing himself into the warmer water. The merman looked back up to him after awhile and his lip was no longer quivering, his fingers no longer shaking in the frostbitten cold.

Neither of them said anything. Dimitri felt suddenly very aware of their situation: a human and merman living alone in this tiny shack next to the ocean, hunkering down for winter and trying to keep their secret while also staying alive. It seemed impossible - but then, everything up until that moment had also been impossible.

At least this part was done, and there was no going back. Dimitri bit his lip, watching as Claude sank lower in the water until the lower half of his face was obscured and feeling as the reality of their predicament settled around them, filling up the empty spaces of the room with worry.

“Now what?” he asked.

Claude didn’t seem to have an answer to that quite yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri continues searching for his purpose in his newfound life and realizes that he's falling in love with the man he's keeping in his bathtub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the content gets spicy folks! The tags are updated for the new chapter, please be sure to review them since it _is_ a bit monsterfucky (in a 100% consensual way!).

Heat puffed out with Dimitri’s breath as he shivered in the cold.

The gass was stiff with frost every morning, leaving him with icy logs with which to build a fire. The first snowfall of the year was not far off now and as he struggled to light some sort of flame in the outdoor firepit, he wondered if they would survive.

Dedue and his family already asked him to let them be a resource for him, but when he factored in needing to feed Claude too, he did not want to ask the Molinaros for too much. After a small incident which involved one of the locals accusing him of being a thief when he’d tried to sell jewelry that she recognized, Dimitri couldn’t rely on Claude’s trinket collection for money. Claude’s coins would feed them, as would some of his own savings, but if they had to make it four months without income - well, it wouldn’t last nearly that long.

He could chop firewood with a small axe one handed, could buy cheap meat and grains to cook and feed them both and graciously accept Dedue’s assistance when his friend came to him with a small basket of preserved fish - and so, that was what he did.

But it wouldn’t last forever.

“You worry too much,” Claude told him cheerily when Dimitri tried to reason out what he could do. Dimitri scoffed, rolling his eyes as he offered Claude a small plate of rice.

“You don’t worry enough.”

“I worry the perfect amount,” Claude said, shrugging. He was in good spirits today - at times, he was angry or standoffish, though he tried not to take it out on Dimitri when he could. He was just _bored_ , trapped, without money to spend on frivolous things to do. He had counted every plank that made up the wooden walls in the bathroom, every scratch on the edge of the bathtub, every small crack in the ceiling where water would drip through after a particularly brutal rain, and still there was achingly little to do. “Come here, listen to me.”

Dimitri sighed and moved closer, lifting the curtain to the cramped washroom and moving to sit on the small stool that he’d cobbled together so that he could sit near Claude. At times, he would move the cot inside the room and sleep beside him, their fingers brushing together in the chill of the night, but he didn’t do it often - they both needed privacy, and there was such a thing as _too much_ company.

“Get one of the carts you were talking about and wheel me back out to the sea,” Claude reasoned, “just for a night. I’ll catch fish for both of us.”

“Don’t be foolish, you’d freeze.” Dimitri pursed his lips, before shaking his head.

“Not in a single night.” Claude shook his head with his carefree smile, as if that would be more convincing.

Dimitri had learned a few things about Claude from living with him in the last few weeks. He liked to smile and to pretend that nothing was wrong, but his flippancy had a limit and Dimitri knew by now that Claude often took things more seriously than he let on.

He also knew that Claude was often frustrated with his inability to help out and felt guilty for Dimitri toiling so hard to try and keep them both fed and warm. As much as Dimitri didn’t want Claude to worry about it or feel like there was an inequality between them, he also didn’t know how to tell Claude that he didn’t hold it against him. Every time he tried to approach the topic, Claude would artfully change the subject and so eventually Dimitri stopped trying.

So, he lit fires. He warmed the water with hot coals, which Claude would gingerly pass back to him once their heat was expended. He cooked for them both and Claude never complained about the questionable taste of his food.

Dimitri considered forbidding it - Claude could not go into the ocean now if Dimitri did not let him - but such a thing felt vile to him, even if he would only do it to protect him. He had promised to take Claude back to the ocean whenever he wanted, and he would not break that promise, even if he felt that it would be best for Claude to stay with him.

“We won’t run out of food for awhile yet,” he finally said, reaching to rest his hand on the edge of the tub. Claude quietly lifted his own hand to place on Dimitri’s, laying his fingers down in the empty spaces between Dimitri’s own.

“Will you let me help you?” he asked quietly. Claude turned in the tub, moving from his back to his stomach, leaning against Dimitri’s hand as he lifted his upper body out of the water and held himself up with a strong grip on the edge of the bathtub.

Dimitri tilted his head, watching as Claude swayed closer to him, careful to keep his balance in the shallow water of the bath.

“I’ll bring you back to the water if you ask it of me,” Dimitri told him, “I won’t break my promise. But I hope that you’ll be safe.”

Claude seemed to falter at that, as if he didn’t expect it, and Dimitri had to wonder which part of his words surprised him so. Still, he seemed to gather his composure quickly enough and nodded, slipping their fingers together again.

“Let me think about it,” he finally said and Dimitri nodded, watching as Claude finally picked up the plate of food from the table that he’d set up next to the bath and started to eat.

It had taken Claude awhile to learn how to eat like this as well. He was used to raw fish that he’d tear into with his teeth beneath the water, maybe nibbling on some seaweed from time to time - cooked grains were new to him, as was cooked meat, and he’d protested against both at first.

The meat, Dimitri let slide - he fed Claude raw fish whenever he could, preserved fish when he could not, but insisted on cooking the pig and cow meat that he’d bought at the market, since he didn’t know how that could affect Claude’s stomach. The grains, though… well, it wasn’t like Claude could crunch his way through uncooked rice and eventually he let Dimitri feed him vegetables that had been boiled until they were soft enough to appease him.

He ate what Dimitri gave him and was gracious enough to thank him for it, even though Dimitri was well aware that he was an incompetent cook. And so he chewed on the rice then, staring thoughtfully at Dimitri’s face until his mouth twitched in a little smile.

“Enough about our hardships,” he finally said, bending his tail so that his fin could dip into the water, “tell me more about yourself. Tell me stories about your childhood - ooh, or about your parents. You’ve never spoken of them before. Do they know that you’re alive?”

There was a pause, and Claude must have seen the darkening over Dimitri’s features in response to the question and he straightened to try and take it back, but Dimitri shook his head quickly, stopping the words before they could come out.

“They must, because I have not yet joined them in death.”

Claude frowned, taking another slow bite of his food.

“- I’m sorry.”

Dimitri waved him off, sighing as he leaned against the tub. In truth, he had not spoken a word of this to anyone here for fear of what might happen once they knew, but Claude… well, Claude was a secret in his own right, and Claude would not - could not - tell anyone.

Claude likely wouldn’t even care. What did merfolk care for the laws of men, the status of those who walked the earth? It wouldn’t matter to him. At least, Dimitri hoped it wouldn’t.

He breathed and felt his chest open with the truth that he’d kept buried - for what did the truth matter? Whoever he was back then, he wasn’t that person anymore. He was simply _Dimitri_ , an odd foreigner who had washed up on the shores of Duscur. A fish salesman, a farmer… that was all he ever wanted to be anymore.

He turned away and spoke in a soft tone, staring down at the calloused fingers of his hand.

“My great grandfather was the king of Faerghus. My grandmother was his secondborn and married to a noble house to secure an treaty. My father was fifth in line to inherit the throne when the war began. The king and his older son were killed in the war, leaving only a child - his younger daughter - and an old man, my great uncle, between my father and the throne. My father became the king regent until the princess came of age, and I… I went to war.”

Claude’s eyes grew larger as the story went on and realization sank in. Claude had saved him from disaster, rescued him from certain death in the middle of a war, but his ship had flown the flag of Faerghus, had been one of the most beautiful ships in the entirety of the royal navy.

It was the ship of an admiral, or a high ranking noble, or - or a king.

“Dimitri…”

Dimitri sighed as it all came rushing back. Memories that he’d tried to erase, feelings that he’d thought to push down so that he could live out whatever remained of his life in relative peace… and could anyone blame him? He never anticipated getting the throne, he had grown up so far removed from the possibility that he had not been trained for it, did not know the first thing of how to manage it.

Then the war happened.

“My mother and father were killed. Assassinated. The girl was taken away, out of the country for safety. I became…” he shook his head with a sigh, “I was the king regent. I found out while at sea. I didn’t… I didn’t tell anyone.”

Claude had set his plate down on the table at some point during Dimitri’s unexpected admission, where half of his food sat, uneaten. Dimitri hadn’t thought that merfolk would care much about the affairs of kings - but perhaps he was mistaken.

“I meant to,” he said, as if he could convince Claude, as if he was defending himself from an accusation that was not coming, “but - I received word at the same time as I found out about my parents’ deaths. I needed… time. We weren’t due for port for another two weeks so I just…”

Dimitri’s eye squeezed shut tight as he pressed his hand to his face, his jaw tight. Stupid. What an idiot he’d been.

“If I’d told them, we could have prepared for an attack. But I…” he took in a deep shuddering breath and felt emotion wash over him, the same sort of feeling that he’d been trying to push aside all this time.

A new life. What mockery. He still had to reconcile the old one.

“...I wanted just a little more time. As a man, a captain - before I had to be this… this leader of a nation, this target that I had no warning for, no training. If I’d said something, they all would have looked at me differently. I was so… afraid of how they’d see me that I didn’t -”

“You didn’t know,” Claude said quickly, cutting him off in a hush. Dimitri slowly looked up, his eye wet with tears. Claude’s shape was blurry behind them, but he moved in closer, touching Dimitri’s chin with his fingers and tilting his head up to look at him.

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” he insisted, “they were attacking members of the royal family. Whether or not you were able to prepare, they weren’t going to stop until you were dead. You’re not the one who started the conflict. You’re not the one who attacked a vessel simply to snuff out a bloodline.”

Dimitri tried to shake his head to dismiss Claude’s words, but his fingers were still on his jaw, surprisingly strong, pulling him closer to the edge of the tub.

“Your friends… they died thinking of you as their leader and friend, not their king. They went down at sea filled with love for you, not loyalty or obligation. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

He let out a shaking breath, trying to understand Claude’s words. The guilt that had threatened to consume him was still there, gnawing at the edge of his mind, but Claude was so earnest and so insistent that it was hard to dismiss his words entirely.

Slowly, he nodded once to show that he understood and Claude’s fingers slipped away from his chin.

“...are you planning on going back?” Claude asked, tentatively. “Who gets the throne now?”

Dimitri breathed in slow and rubbed the wetness at his eye, clearing his vision and staring down to the loose floorboards beneath his feet.

“It still belongs to the princess, who is hidden away in the Alliance,” he said quietly, “I don’t know where she is and I don’t want to know. I was merely the regent, but… after me - I don’t think there is anyone. I had no siblings, and my grand uncle’s wife died in childbirth with the first king.”

As for the first question, he remained silent. He didn’t plan on going back, but retelling the story like this made some old desire flare up in him, the part of him that wanted justice for what had happened, vengeance for dismantling the royal family and killing so many of his friends.

Going back would be foolish. From what little news made it to their small fishing village in Duscur, he knew that the Empire had won the war and assumed the territory of the Kingdom within its own. They had done so in a way that was - admittedly - less bloody toward the end, with only direct strikes against the royal family and those who would take up arms against them.

Even if he tried, he would be killed before he could drum up support. The only feasible option would mean traveling to the Alliance, trying to find the princess, and swearing his fealty to her - but what would she do with a one armed man? 

She was only four years old when the war started. If his estimations were correct, she would be six now.

“I won’t go back,” he finally said, and he almost thought that he saw tension slip out of Claude’s shoulders, “they killed the king regent in the attack at sea. The man who remains now… I don’t know who he is, but he’s not the man who can reclaim the Kingdom.”

“I like that man,” Claude told him softly, pulling himself closer once more, leaning out of the bathtub and in toward Dimitri, “he’s a good one, he’s kind and generous. I’m glad I saved him.”

Some part of Dimitri’s mind knew what was coming before it happened. Claude leaned in closer, but could not quite close the distance between them while still staying balanced along the rim of the bathtub, and so Dimitri had to press in as well, to give Claude what he had been searching for: a kiss.

Claude’s mouth was wet with seawater, but he tasted like the first rain after the summer, like everything that was magical in the world. Dimitri lifted his hand to touch his jaw, to steady the both of them as he pressed more firmly into the kiss.

Could he be that? Could he be a good man if he’d turned his back on his nation? Dimitri didn’t know, but he _did_ have Claude in his arms, and that was all he wanted. He gave the Kingdom all of his riches, his arm, his eye, his family, and his friends. What more could he sacrifice for that land? What more could he possibly hope to accomplish, and why would he want to, when Claude was so close and so tender against him?

Dimitri leaned forward, wanting to be the person that Claude saw when he looked at him. With Claude, he felt like a better man, and if he could save no other being on this earth, at least he could save Claude, could protect him and care for him throughout the winter to repay some form of his debt to him.

The kiss deepened, and one of Claude’s hands came out from the water to clutch at his shirt, wetting it, his slippery fingers sliding under the hem to feel at the hard muscles of his stomach.

Dimitri gasped, pulling away for a moment, his brows furrowed. Claude didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed - to the contrary, his eyes were curious when Dimitri met them, as if wondering how far Dimitri would let him go.

“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile,” Claude told him, breathless, his cheeks flushing, “but you never… I didn’t think you’d want it.”

“You - you what?” Dimitri blinked in surprise. The two of them were close and they’d grown closer in the weeks since he’d taken Claude into his shack, but he didn’t think… “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The flush disappeared from Claude’s face as his expression dripped away, leaving nothing but a flat, disbelieving stare.

“You’re joking, right?”

Dimitri shook his head.

“...Dimitri,” Claude tried, struggling to find his patience, “you’re the most oblivious man I’ve ever met.”

Now, it was Dimitri’s turn to turn bright red and he sputtered, defensive. "How was I supposed to -" 

"Oh, shut up and kiss me again."

Claude was pouting, but Dimitri knew how to make that expression disappear. As he leaned in, he thought about all of Claude's actions before, the extended touching, how he liked being so close, how he would casually press small kisses to his cheek or forehead.

He'd assumed that it was just a - a merman thing, that maybe creatures of the sea were more physically affectionate than those on land. How was he supposed to know any different? He didn’t know any other merfolk, and he’d never seen Claude interacting with anyone but him.

He was afraid to voice it though, for fear of Claude laughing at him again. So Dimitri relented and just allowed himself to enjoy the taste of Claude’s mouth, to lean in low over the edge of the tub, pressing Claude back so he could kiss him harder.

Claude’s hand slid up his shirt again, feeling the hard muscle of his chest with a murmured approval and Dimitri tried to do the same. With only one arm, he had to carefully keep balance with his legs, but he managed well enough and lowered his fingers below the water so that he could touch Claude in turn, feel the stretch of his hip where skin gently gave way to scales in a lovely gradient.

Claude shifted underneath his hand, pressing up readily against him and Dimitri broke the kiss just once to inhale sharply as his hand slipped lower, touching what would have been Claude’s outer thigh if he was a human - with a palmful of scales that glimmered like the sun, Dimitri tilted his head up as Claude trilled low in the back of his throat and licked at Dimitri’s jaw.

The sound was almost startling coming from Claude, and Dimitri blinked in surprise, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“What was that?” he asked, partially curious, partially teasing. He could see the flush on Claude’s cheeks in return and wanted very much to keep it there through whatever means necessary.

“Don’t ruin this,” Claude shot back, but he was grinning too and instead saw fit to press his teeth against Dimitri’s pulse point, too sharp to be anything like a human’s mouth and Dimitri bit his lip with a stuttering gasp.

As ways to shut him up went, this was probably his favorite.

“Claude,” he whispered while Claude’s mouth threatened to bite down and then seemed to think better of it, moving instead to suck a dark mark into his throat. Dimitri’s hand at his hip slid closer, inward toward the center of Claude’s body. He was moving on his own instinct with hardly a thought as to what he was doing, reaching for something that was… not there in Claude’s anatomy.

Claude didn’t seem to mind. He shuddered beneath him, letting go of his throat to make that soft fluttering noise again, when Dimitri felt it: a break in the scales at his front, so small that it was almost impossible to see unless you were really looking for it.

It was… he didn’t know how to describe it and thought it might be rude to pull his head back to look down and investigate, but he really had no clue what he was doing here, or even if he’d found the right area.

By then, Claude had stopped nearly all his ministrations, his body tense and at attention as Dimitri tripped his fingers over what he realized was a well-hidden slit, right where a man’s cock would be.

He eased just the tip of his finger inside, feeling a wet warmth that was so unlike anything else he’d ever touched. The end of Claude’s fin thrashed in the tub, spilling out over the edge and splashing water to the ground as he reached up to clutch tightly at Dimitri’s shirt. He didn’t tell him to stop, and so Dimitri leaned in further, pressing just a tiny bit more, splaying his index and middle finger just slightly to part it at the edges, and -

“- Dimitri?”

Dimitri spun at the sound of another voice just outside of the small bathroom, on the other side of the curtain that bisected both rooms. His foot slipped and he pulled his arm back quickly to try and catch the edge of the tub and prevent his body from crushing Claude’s own as he tipped himself into the water.

“Ah - _fuck_ \- “ he cursed uncharacteristically and Dedue made an alarmed sound on the other side of the partition.

“Dimitri! Are you alright - “

Dimitri yelped, splashing into the tub over Claude’s body as Claude tensed under him, lifting both his arms to try and keep Dimitri from crashing into him with his entire body weight. The result was Dimitri with his hand pressed against the bottom of the bath, the water up to his bicep, his chest submerged on top of Claude’s and his feet almost comically elevated in the air behind him, with his hips painfully smashed against the rim of the tub.

And Dedue was pulling back the curtain.

“Don’t!” Dimitri tried to exclaim, but it was too late. Claude’s tail was partially out of the bathtub, draped elegantly over the end of it with Dimitri halfway submerged on top of him. There was no way to hide his features fast enough, no way to make Dedue turn away when he thought that Dimitri was hurt, and - well.

For all that the past few moments had been chaotic and noisy, the room quickly fell silent when Dedue finally saw what was in Dimitri’s bathroom.

Dimitri winced, slowly lowering his feet so that he could stand back up and carefully extricate himself from the bathtub. He was overcome with the urge to not turn around as dread sank low in his stomach. Turning to see Dedue - it would mean that this was all over. That his secret would be revealed, that Dedue would _know_ , and that Dimitri had somehow betrayed Claude’s trust.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dedue. To the contrary, he trusted him a great deal - but this wasn’t his secret to tell, and Claude didn’t know him, didn’t know how honorable and kind he was.

Still, there was no use in pretending he wasn’t there. Dimitri closed his eye and took a deep breath, turning to face his friend. When he looked up at him, he expected the surprise that was on Dedue’s face, but he thought that… well, that there might be _more_ alarm somehow. This _was_ an alien sort of creature in Dimitri’s bathtub, a man with the lower body of a fish. How could Dedue not react in shock?

Instead, it merely looked as if Dedue thought he’d caught him in an inopportune moment, startled at his company, but not nearly as startled as Dimitri was the first time he’d seen Claude underneath the docks all those months ago.

“I’m sorry,” the larger man finally started, finding his voice now that he had Dimitri’s eyes on him, “I didn’t mean to… I’ll be waiting in the other room.”

He nodded once shortly and Dimitri didn’t miss how his eyes darted to Claude, as if really taking him in, and made a move to step back behind the curtain.

Claude, however, was not content with the two men meeting in a room where he could not follow and sighed theatrically, his tail splashing impatiently against the surface of the water.

“Oh come on, he’s already _seen_ me. Might as well talk about me to my face.”

Dimitri wanted to cringe, but Claude had a point. He could see Dedue’s hesitation then, as if he was unsure if he should stay or go, before Dimitri nodded to him, as if to say ‘what’s the point?’ and slowly moved to push the stool toward him, as if inviting him to sit.

Which he did after a moment’s pause, and Dimitri leaned against the side of the tub, waterlogged and feeling bruises blossoming against his hipbones from where he’d slammed against the edge of the bath.

As the one who knew them both, he thought it was only prudent to introduce the two of them and so he finally started, willing his voice not to tremble as he shifted to Dedue’s native tongue - which he knew that Claude understood thanks to a few conversations they’d had about it in the past.

“Dedue, this is Claude… Claude, Dedue.” He took a deep breath and organized his thoughts before continuing, “Claude was the reason I washed up to shore instead of drowning at sea… Dedue’s family took me in after they found me on the beach. I owe you both a great debt - you have been nothing but kind and welcoming to me, and you are the two most important people in my life.”

Both of them were quiet but he could see Dedue nodding, watching as Claude turned in the bath to rest his elbows along the edge, prop his chin up and survey Dedue with those large, entrancing eyes on his.

“You are _siyena_ ,” Dedue said, repeating that word that he once spoke long ago - the one that Dimitri was unfamiliar with. Had Dedue known all this time?

Claude smirked, an expression that Dimitri had grown to expect from him, and tilted his head.

“You don’t seem that surprised.”

“I knew…” Dedue started, then stopped, then tried again, “I knew that there was someone in Dimitri’s life. I knew that he felt he could not tell me about them. The thought crossed my mind once or twice, that Dimitri had met a child of the sea god, but… I thought it was more likely that it was someone from his old life, or a lover.”

At the word _lover_ Dimitri felt his cheeks flush as the memory of what they’d been doing before Dedue’s intrusion crashed back over him. The heat, which he had forgotten about in the moment, rushed back to him, along with the memory of Claude’s scales under his fingers, the softness of his flesh -

\- but this wasn’t the time to think about that.

“You helped me,” Dimitri said quietly, “even though you didn’t know. I wanted to tell you, I would trust you with this, but it wasn’t my decision to make and he’d never met you.”

“I see why you like him so much,” Claude said to him from the bathtub, before tilting his head in Dedue’s direction, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dedue Molinaro. Dimitri is quite fond of you.”

It was now Dedue’s turn to hold back a small, rueful smile.

“And I, him. He’s been a great help to us. I suppose I should thank you for seeing him safely delivered to our shores."

Claude nodded graciously, but Dimitri was still confused.

"Dedue - you called him a child of the sea god. You’ve seen them before?" 

"Never… like this," he said thoughtfully, "the _siyena_ are illusive and unpredictable. When I was very young, my father caught one in his fishing net - a woman. Without thinking, he cut her free, ruining his own net in the process. She swam off without a word, but the next day there were the most beautifully crafted nets adorning our ship.”

Dimitri glanced over and saw that Claude’s eyes were even wider now, all of the lilting pleasure gone from his face. He remembered then, Claude telling him that he hardly knew his clutchmates at all, realized that Claude _had_ to be so alone in the world, to risk his life by staying too long into the winter. 

“Since then, I've never seen one as closely, but sometimes when I look to the water, I see a ripple under the surface and wonder if they summer in our ocean because they know we will not hunt them."

“We know you’re a good people,” Claude said softly, “I took Dimitri here because I knew… I heard echoes of your kindness. I hoped that you would pay it to him, and I’m very glad you did.”

He didn’t look particularly happy in that moment. It was as if Dedue had reminded him of his own loneliness, just by speaking about another mermaid. Dimitri longed to ask him about it, but this wasn’t the time.

Still, a short silence stretched between the three of them, in which Dedue watched Claude, taking in the brilliant gold of his tail, the deep green of his eyes, and all the parts of him that marked him as inhuman. Dimitri also found himself looking at Claude, but only to make sure that he was alright - and Claude, who didn’t seem to be comfortable with silences where both parties were watching him as if he had some sort of answer or secret, cleared his throat.

“Well Dedue, what brings you in here?”

Dedue startled, as if just then remembering that he hadn’t introduced his purpose for visiting. He looked a touch embarrassed, but Dimitri couldn’t hold it against him - this wasn’t exactly what one expected to see when calling up at your friend’s door.

“Ah - my apologies. And… further apologies for coming in on you while you were unprepared. I came by to ask if you had enough to eat tonight. I knocked on the door, but you didn’t answer… if was unlocked, so I stepped in to see if you were sleeping.”

“You left the door _unlocked_?”

Dimitri winced at the disbelief in Claude’s tone and lifted his hand defensively.

“There isn’t a lock.”

“There isn’t a - oh.” Claude’s eyes sank shut and he let out a short, frustrated breath through his nose. Dedue glanced out through the curtain, as if to check.

“I can try to help you get a lock,” he offered helpfully and Dimitri murmured in thanks, all the while trying to placate the angry merman in his bathtub.

“Thank you. And… as to your earlier question, we’re alright for the night, but this week is looking a bit thin. Claude and I were talking about bringing him to the ocean so he could hunt.”

“I see.” Dedue turned his gaze toward Claude then, his eyes slowly shifting to the plate of abandoned rice on the side table, as if wondering what he ate.

“You’ve already helped us so much,” Dimitri cut in before Dedue could say anything more, “I’m in your debt a hundred times over. Is there any work I can help your family with?”

“You seem to have your hands full here,” Dedue observed, his brow quirked in amusement. “But… no, we’re alright. I have many things to think about - and I’m sure I’ve interrupted. Perhaps we could meet tomorrow morning?”

Dimitri wanted to protest that he hadn’t interrupted (though he had, part of him remembers, recalling the feeling of Claude’s mouth on his skin), and the indecision left him silent for a beat too long, and so Claude responded for him.

“Meet in here when you do. I adore Dimitri, but it’s nice to talk to someone else.”

Dedue nodded and moved to take his leave - which was just as well, because Dimitri could feel the skin in his cheeks heating up in a flush and didn’t want to be teased again. Dedue moved to embrace him in his farewells and reached down into the bath to shake Claude’s hand before taking his leave.

Dimitri followed him out, thanking him again as he reached to get the door for him, when Dedue turned back with a contemplative stare.

“I won’t say anything about this,” he promised without being prompted, “but if I’d known you were feeding two, I’d have given you more food.”

“I appreciate it. I know we’ll manage.” Dimitri’s tone sounded more optimistic than he felt, but it seemed to placate Dedue, who turned to leave. Dimitri watched him move back down the dirt path that connected to the main road, before moving to close the door with a soft sigh.

In a way, Dedue’s surprise visit was a relief. Dimitri would no longer have to hide Claude’s existence from him, and the guilt at being so secretive had been draining at his conscience. On the other hand of course, was the fact that he felt guilty for not saying anything sooner, but Dedue seemed to understand his reason.

Dimitri didn’t know how much he’d seen when he walked in through the curtain, but it only took one glance down toward his waterlogged self to remember the precarious position he’d been in, and how that must have looked… Dedue thought he’d had a lover, but if he knew the truth, what would he think?

And then there was Claude. Claude! The scamp, smiling sweetly at both of them and saying things like how he _adores_ him. Dimitri knew that realistically, Claude was probably being honest - he _did_ need more company than just Dimitri - but it still filled him with some strange emotion to know that he felt that way.

At least now that Dedue was in on the loop, he’d be able to help keep the mermaid company. Three heads would be better than two when it came to trying to make it through the winter after all, even if Dimitri didn’t want to take more than he had earned from his dear friend.

Still, Dedue didn’t make it seem like he would have much choice in the matter. Dimitri pursed his lips at the thought and ensured that the front door was closed and tugged a spare chair to prop up underneath the doorknob to keep other potential guests - though he’d never expect anyone but Dedue - out.

With that done, he turned back to the bathroom and took a deep breath before moving back in to see Claude again.

The mood had been ruined, but Claude was pleased to talk about Dedue for the rest of the evening and he asked Dimitri a myriad of questions about him, more curious than he’d ever been.

He complimented Dimitri’s grasp on Dedue’s language, was interested in how many boats the family had, how old Dedue's sister was, what Dimitri thought of Dedue’s apparent history with the merfolk.

At the end of the evening, when Dimitri was getting tired and contemplating going off to bed, Claude stretched out in the bathtub and looked up at him, his expression hesitant, as if he did not quite know how to say what he wanted to say.

“Dimitri,” he started, then trailed off, leaning against the edge of the tub, “I’d like to go to the ocean to help us get food. Tomorrow, when you can get a cart from Dedue.”

Dimitri nodded, relieved that it was not more pressing.

“Tomorrow.”

-

The next day, Dimitri went to Dedue’s house and asked him for a cart to help bring Claude back to the ocean - Dedue smiled and brought one out for him that evening, and together they lifted Claude into it and wheeled him to the inlet in the beach where Claude could get to the water.

Claude shivered when he touched it, but offered up a small thanks in turn and slipped underneath the waves, disappearing from view. Dimitri sighed as he watched the surface of the water even out after its disturbance and slowly moved to sit down on the beach, tugging his thin coat more firmly around himself.

Dedue tilted his head down toward him, a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re worried about him?”

“I don’t want him to freeze,” Dimitri said, as if it was obvious, “he overstayed past when he should have migrated for me. If anything happens to him, it’s my fault.”

“Hm.”

Dedue seemed to consider that for a moment, but moved to sit next to Dimitri on the beach, looking out over the water alongside him.

“Wasn’t it his decision to stay?”

“What?” Dimitri asked, looking back toward him with a frown, “I suppose so. But I still feel…”

“You carry this guilt around with you,” Dedue told him quietly, his head tilted now as he looked toward the sand, “always willing to take responsibility for everything. But sometimes, people just want to take care of you, or work _with_ you. If you’re always assuming responsibility for that choice, you’re denying them that.”

Dimitri couldn’t help it - Dedue was right, and his words cut deeper than they should, but he still felt a smile at the corner of his mouth as he tugged his knees up to his chin.

“Are you talking about Claude or your family?”

“I’m talking about you.” Dedue sighed, reaching out to touch at his shoulder, smiling now too, “you’re charismatic, Dimitri. You sold more fish than me when you were starting out, and you didn’t even speak our language. Whoever you were before you graced our shores… I feel like I see parts of him when you’re taking charge, when you’re focused on a goal. I could see you being a leader someday, but you need to trust the people around you to make their own choices, and to not blame yourself for them.”

Dimitri was quiet for a long while at that, his smile faded from his face. He looked back out to the water and the grey, overcast skies above. It looked like rain, like a thunderstorm was coming and there was little he could do to stop it.

He thought about Dedue’s family and Claude, yes - but also about his crew. His country. His family, and a little girl in the Alliance who didn’t understand why she had to escape. His friends didn’t know about his relation to the throne, didn’t know why they died, and he had been so scared to tell them… perhaps this was why. Perhaps he thought that the knowledge would influence their choices, would make them react differently, fight harder, put themselves in danger because of him.

But they did all of that anyway. Not for their King, but for their Captain, for each other. He would have done the same for them in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred different ways.

“...you’re a good man,” Dedue said after awhile, “I’m glad to know you, and I’m sure that Claude is too.”

Dimitri wanted to protest at that. He never _felt_ like he was a good person - he was just a man trying to get by - but there wasn’t anything he could say that Dedue had not already refuted and so he didn’t even try.

“Claude is… complicated,” he finally said, drawing his knees tighter, “it’s a frustrating situation for him, though. I’m just trying to make it better where I can.”

“He seems lonely,” Dedue observed. “Not that you don’t keep him company. It’s only that… I wonder why he stayed.”

“I don’t think he knows any others of his kind very well. He told me once that he could hear their voices in the sea, whispering things to him, but - he has no family to call his own. Maybe he thought he’d find one here - maybe that’s why he brought me here.”

Dedue hummed to show that he’d heard, but was otherwise quiet, thoughtful. He was an observant man, astute and far wiser than his years would imply. Dimitri knew that look on him too: he was contemplating something, finding a solution in his head and then trying to figure out the steps that it would take to get there.

“You care for him?” he finally asked, and Dimitri nodded. “Then maybe you can help him.”

“What? How -”

“When the spring thaws, you can work in the fields again. Save for a boat, sail around the waters and keep him company while he searches for his people.”

Dimitri barked out a laugh, incredulous and a little rude. “What are you talking about? That’s -”

“Do you love him?”

There was a long pause. Dimitri felt himself go still with the implication and his silence spoke more than his words could ever say.

In Dedue’s language, there were three different words for _love_. The first was meant to imply a platonic love, like the kind that Dedue had for him - the kind of love that one would rely on through all things, a close friendship that implied a familial bond. Then there was the second: a love between a parent and child.

Dedue had spoken using the third sort of _love_ , one with romantic connotations, used only for the kinds of lovers who would go to the ends of the earth for one another. Dimitri had heard Tarlei speak of this word around her husband, but he’d never heard it from Dedue’s mouth before, and he’d never felt the need to speak it.

In his native tongue, perhaps there was a way that he could skirt around the conversation, but in Dedue’s language, there was no way he could deny it, nor did he feel it was possible to say that it was true, given that he didn’t know Claude’s own feelings.

Then he remembered Claude, remembered _you’re the most oblivious man I’ve ever met_ and thought - maybe Claude loved him too?

He’d taken long enough to respond that Dedue was simply looking at him with a vague smile on his face, a smile that Dimitri wanted to push away and so he shoved at his friend’s shoulder with an exaggerated sigh.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“You _do_ ,” Dedue said, as he pitched into the sand, “and so, you would sail around the earth for him.”

“I won’t leave _you_ ,” Dimitri scoffed pointedly, using the first translation of the word when he spoke next, “I love you as well, Dedue.”

“Luckily, you have time to think about it.”

Dimitri rolled his eye, settling back into the sand, even as Dedue moved to stand. What he’d just offered seemed insane, even to a man who had washed up on the shores of a foreign land and started a new life there - but what about his entire experience up until now had been _sane_?

“Let me know if you need help getting him back home in the morning.”

“I will.”

Dedue took his leave then - likely to get some sleep. Dimitri should have done the same, but instead he stood and spent the next few hours changing out the water in his bath, carting in buckets of fresh seawater, which was simpler when Claude wasn’t currently occupying the tub, and made even easier due to being able to use the cart.

With the water successfully changed, he went back to the ocean to wait for Claude, though he could feel exhaustion tugging away at him. He lit a fire to keep warm, keep away predators, and to create some light for Claude to locate him by, if he needed.

It was the middle of the night by then, but he had to stay in case Claude came back half-frozen and in need of a rescue. Dimitri felt as if he had no choice but to wait for him, and so he sat on the beach and watched as the moon rose over the water, the reflection of it making it look like glass.

It was calm. Serene.

He tried to imagine what it might be like, to sail across the sea with Claude. Tried to imagine what it might be like to sail back toward the Alliance. His future stretched before him like a half-woven tapestry, and each thread that he plucked at shivered threateningly, as if the entire thing could unspool if he picked the wrong one.

The only constant was Claude. Dimitri knew now that he would not leave him, that he would spend the rest of his life at the ocean if it meant that they could be together where the sea met the shore. They could achieve their goals like that, somehow, and they could be happy...

Dimitri did not realize that he had fallen asleep. It was only when he felt something wet against his foot that he startled awake - but that was just the tide coming in. He resituated himself, wrapping his coat around his torso and inching closer to the fire, before drifting off to sleep again.

When he awoke, it was again to water, but this time it was dripping on his face, a fat droplet splashing off of his cheek. Dimitri’s eye snapped open to see a dark shape looming over him and he startled awake - within seconds, he recognized Claude’s large, reflective eyes and slowly let himself settle back again, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“You scared me,” he accused.

“You didn’t have to wait all night. I would have been fine.”

Dimitri shook his head, curling his frozen toes and inching closer to the fire, which had died down some during the night. Claude was still above him, looking down - the water that dripped from his hair was what fell onto Dimitri’s face, and he squeezed his eye shut to avoid a second splatter from blinding him.

“I wanted to…” he started, but as he spoke, Dedue’s words from earlier echoed in his mind: _do you love him?_

Why else would he stay here all night? Why else would he wait for Claude just to make sure that he was okay? Dimitri bit at his lip and in the shadow of Claude’s face above him, he could see the tilt of his mouth into a smile, reflected in the low firelight.

“I had to make sure,” he finally clarified, squirming under the intensity of Claude’s gaze, his fingers splayed against the sand.

Claude hummed above him. Dimitri figured it was still dark outside, with the only light around them coming from the moon, the stars, and the fire nearby that illuminated everything in the immediate area into soft reds and oranges.

“I brought a sackful of fish,” Claude told him triumphantly, ducking out of the strap of his bag and setting it down a ways away. Dimitri nodded thankfully, glancing to it, before looking down to the rest of Claude’s body, his slow mind only just then working out how they were positioned.

Dimitri was on his back on the beach, staring up at the stars and at Claude’s face - Claude, who had crawled in from the sea, his glorious fins splayed over the sand, holding himself up on his palms on either side of Dimitri’s head.

“That’s… good.”

Dimitri was cold, of course, but the fire was still warm and even in the low light of it, he could see the dark color around Claude’s lips, the chill in his bones. More than that, he could see the wetness clinging to his eyelashes that rimmed his slightly-too-large eyes, the water that condensed at the ends of his hair and dripped onto Dimitri’s face.

The water that beaded at his shoulders, his chest.

“...have I told you that you’re beautiful?” Dimitri finally said almost without thinking, his cheeks going pink at the suddenness of it, but Claude only smiled, brilliant enough to outshine all the stars above him, and leaned in just a bit closer.

“Have I ever told you that you’re charming?”

If he wasn’t flushing before, he certainly was then and Dimitri prayed that the orange light of the fire would disguise his embarrassment as he nibbled at his lower lip.

“You may have… mentioned it a time or two.”

Claude trilled low in his throat, a sound that was half a purr and half something else entirely, and when he leaned in to kiss him, Dimitri was helpless but to arch up against him into the motion, his thoughts melting away at the sensation of Claude’s cold, wet lips against his own.

It was over too quickly - Claude pulled back, tilting his head in a doglike fashion and observing Dimitri with a little grin. Dimitri didn’t know what to do under such a look and he had to glance away, his breath coming out in a shaking puff.

“Charming,” Claude repeated, lowering himself to lean on his elbows instead of his hands. It pressed his chest against Dimitri’s, the dampness of his skin seeping into Dimitri’s shirt and chilling him to the bone. The sensation only served to excite him, to make him want to drag Claude in closer and warm him with his touch. “I could kiss you forever.”

“I want you to,” Dimitri whispered back, breathless. He felt the brush of Claude’s fin against his ankles as the merman’s tail twitched, falling against his skin in waves of silk.

Dimitri reached up, touching Claude’s face in his hand, holding his jaw as if he were made of glass, and gently guided him down for another kiss, and then another. Claude made a low sound against his mouth as the kiss deepened, and then turned filthy as Dimitri lost all control of himself.

He pressed his tongue into Claude’s mouth and was rewarded with a nick on his tongue as he slid too close to Claude’s dangerously-sharp teeth. Claude made a noise at the taste of blood, as if to pull back and apologize, but Dimitri would have none of it. If anything, it only incensed him further, to reach up and press Claude down against him, keeping their bodies close and feeling the warm and solid weight of Claude’s tail settle over his thighs and -

“Oh,” Claude breathed once they had parted. Dimitri wanted to make an excuse, to push Claude away in a belated form of modesty, but instead he just licked the smattering of blood from his lips and squeezed his legs together as Claude balanced carefully on one hand in order to trail the other hand down his chest, his stomach, his abdomen, and lower.

“What do we have here?”

It was such a line that Dimitri almost groaned - and then he _did_ groan as Claude’s venturing fingers pressed against the hardness of him through the fabric of his pants, the same hardness that Claude must have felt pressed up against his tail.

Claude looked down to see it tenting his trousers, lifted himself away so that he could cup it in his hand, and the warmth of it made Dimitri whimper, his hips lifting from the sand to chase the sensation of Claude’s firm hold.

“Claude…”

“There’s no,” Claude started, and then tried again as his grip tightened, “you don’t have - oh, Dimitri, do all men walk around with this vulnerable thing hanging about?”

Dimitri kicked out, his heel digging through the sand beneath him as his jaw tightened. Claude’s fingers were nimble and slightly longer than a man’s and _perfect_ to hold him, to massage him, and the way he _looked_ \- gods, as if Dimitri was some kind of fascinating thing to undo, to take apart and figure out how he all fit together.

“Touch it,” he begged breathlessly, arching up into Claude’s grip, “ _Claude_ -”

But Claude saw no need to rush his curiosity, and instead delicately tugged at his pants, shifting so that he could use his other hand to try and get it open, but it was too unfamiliar of a mechanism for him to really perform the task easily and he trilled again - though this sounded more frustrated than anything.

Dimitri reached down to unfasten his trousers for him, gentling Claude’s fingers away so that he could get his cock out for Claude to touch. In turn, Claude slumped back against the sand, breathing a bit hard - some of which was likely due to arousal, but Dimitri figured that he couldn’t exactly be used to holding up his entire upper body on one arm for long either.

“Here, here -” he tried, kicking off his shoes and getting his pants and underwear down so that Claude didn’t have to trifle himself with any more clothing. He ignored the soft exclamation of _’you have hair, down-’_ and instead huffed a breath out into the frigid evening as he pushed Claude back so that he could get on top of him, straddling around his impressively-thick tail and getting his arm to press against the sand so he could press their bodies together and lean in to kiss him again.

“There,” he finally said, breaking the kiss with satisfaction - and he was more than pleased when Claude reached down to touch him again.

Now, more than ever, he cursed his missing arm because he had to sit up fully to balance on his haunches if he wanted to do the same in turn, to press his curious fingers to the hidden slit that he’d found the other day, to finally see what sorts of treasures could lay within.

Claude undulated underneath him at the slightest sensation of Dimitri’s fingers touching him again and his own hand fell from Dimitri’s cock. Perhaps this should have been taken as a loss, but to see Claude beneath him like this, losing control so readily, so quickly, just from having Dimitri’s finger wormed half an inch inside of his slit - Dimitri went tense with self-restraint, his thighs rigid as he had to keep himself from coming and spoiling their game just then and there.

“Sensitive,” he found himself teasing, his voice huskier than he meant for it to be. Claude peeked an eye open to watch him as he slowly pried deeper, opening Claude around his knuckles and feeling his - the protrusion of him, pressing up against his fingers.

Claude’s cock was buried inside of this warm, meaty covering, sheltered and protected by the thin layer of nerve endings and fat, and Dimitri could scarcely breathe as he eased it out into the cold night air, his eye fixated on what he held in his hand.

It was - it was shorter than his own, thinner, and instead of rough skin and hair or scales, it was soft, almost rubbery, with more flexible give to it than Dimitri’s own. It was pale and beautiful and Dimitri could barely breathe from wanting it.

Every touch directly to it seemed as if it was too much. Claude’s arms were splayed above him now, gathering fistfulls of sand while his eyes squeezed shut at even the gentlest of ministrations. Dimitri wrapped his fingers around it and dragged upward and Claude _yelped_ \- a sound of pain more than pleasure, which made Dimitri release him almost immediately.

“Too rough,” he whined, and Dimitri didn’t know how to take that. He’d barely stroked him off, using a grip lighter than he’d used on himself, and _that_ was - ? He tried again, even gentler this time, and Claude bit his lip, a low, uncomfortable sound in the back of his throat.

Just how sensitive _was_ he?

Dimitri pulled his hand away entirely then, his mind reframing the situation. If his fingers were too much, could he press his cock against Claude’s own, stroke him off that way? They didn’t have any sort of lubrication, but Dimitri reached up to stroke his fingers through Claude’s wet hair, wetting his hand in seawater and trying again, bringing it gently to Claude’s cock and tracing just the tip of his finger down his shaft.

Claude groaned - and yes, this sounded more pleasurable than he’d been before, and Dimitri did it again, the lightest of touches, just to feel Claude’s tail ripple underneath him as he slapped his fin against the sand.

The motion of it served to remind Dimitri of his own need, of his hard cock which brushed against Claude’s scales at the motion and his mouth went dry at the thought.

His touch was soft, soft enough that Dimitri didn’t know how Claude could stand it. This sort of teasing would kowtow a man, or could even serve to disinterest him until something more firm was done, but Claude…

Claude was an infinitely beautiful creature and he rolled under Dimitri’s touch as if it were the most provocative thing anyone had ever done to him. Dimitri ventured to stroke his finger lower, toward the slit from which Claude’s cock protruded from and found that there was a liquid there, something other than seawater - something thicker, more viscous.

He wanted to taste it.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Dimitri could think of nothing else. His head was thick with desire, and as he slipped down Claude’s body, straddling at his tail and careful to keep his knees from Claude’s fins, he felt Claude’s confusion, watched as Claude sat up on his elbows to look at him, his cheeks a beautiful rosy pink in the flickering firelight.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Dimitri murmured, breathing out slow before he leaned down to press his tongue against Claude’s cock.

Claude gasped and fell back against the sand, his hands reaching down to thread through Dimitri’s hair, holding him there.

The taste was… unlike anything he could have guessed. It felt just as strange on his tongue as it did against his fingers and he tentatively put his mouth over the head of it, enveloping it in a warm and soft heat.

Dimitri did not suckle at him, though he wanted to - he feared that even that would be too much for Claude’s constitution. Instead, he simply held him soft in his mouth and allowed Claude to gently press up against the warmth and wetness, filling his cheeks and tongue with the tang of saltwater and the cloying taste of his precum.

Claude exhaled after a moment, his eyes wide and staring up sightlessly toward the night sky while he held Dimitri there and whimpered, quivered, and then Dimitri tasted it even more.

It didn’t spurt down his throat like he expected from a man’s orgasm and even at the height of his pleasure, the liquid was… thinner than Dimitri would have thought, but it filled his mouth all the same, and Dimitri allowed Claude to pull him away by the hair and watched as Claude squirmed underneath him.

“More,” Claude whimpered, once he could collect himself to speak again and Dimitri couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow, forcing Claude to explain - “it’s not done yet, _please_.”

When faced with _that_ , Dimitri plunged back down like it was his god-given duty, this time pressing his tongue at the base of Claude’s shaft, curiously close to the spot where he protruded from the seam of his flesh.

He dipped down lower then, his eye open and focused on Claude’s rapturous expression while Dimitri pressed tender kisses to Claude’s cock and then, daring, hoping that Claude would not pull him away, Dimitri pressed his tongue against the opening that encased his cock and slowly licked his way inside.

Claude cried out again, trilling a high sound from the back of his throat and bucked so hard against Dimitri’s face that he was temporarily dislodged.

“Good?” he asked, and Claude simply glared at him for having the audacity to pull away.

What could he do then, but push back in, press his tongue up against that seam of him and then lick down into him? The taste of Claude exploded into his mouth, the tenderness of the flesh there, and he had to use his arm to press against where Claude’s hip would be, to try and hold him down as he mercilessly licked around his cock, used his lips and his tongue - never his teeth - to pleasure him in a way that Claude so desperately needed, until he could feel Claude’s hands pressing at his face again, forcing him back, while he trembled and shook in the aftershocks of his long and wet orgasm underneath him.

“Enough - enough, I can’t -” he babbled, and then said something in a language Dimitri didn’t recognize.

Dimitri pulled away, more satisfied than he’d ever been in his life, and it was only when the cool air hit his face that he realized he was soaking, that Claude’s quiet and muted orgasms had left their messes across his cheeks and even into his hair. Every time he inhaled he could smell Claude, as if his face was pressed right back against him again, and he reached down to touch himself at the thought of it.

Similarly, Claude reached down to gingerly tuck his cock away and Dimitri watched with interest as it folded back between the edges of flesh and disappeared entirely from view.

 _Gods_ , just knowing it was there now - Dimitri wanted to try a myriad of things with him, wanted to see if he was too sensitive for penetration, wanted to…

“Oh, you good man,” Claude was saying, his tone exhausted as he followed the line of Dimitri’s arm to reach for his dick, his fingers splaying over the head of it. Dimitri grunted, pulling his hand back and let Claude pitch them over to the side, until his shoulder hit the dirt and he was staring into Claude’s beautiful green eyes.

“You’re magical, you’re divine, I’ve never...” Claude smiled and Dimitri could see now that his climax had made him almost delirious in exhaustion and pleasure. “Come here, let me take care of you… that’s it, move your hand, just like that…”

Dimitri bit his lip while Claude explored him, pressed his cheek into the sand as Claude’s clever fingers traced over his balls with curiosity before returning to his cock, stroking him the way he needed it most, following Dimitri’s own ministrations to gentle him into an orgasm that felt like - it felt like the sweetest sort of release, the kind that came like a particularly satisfying stretch after a long day, into Claude’s gentle fingers and unwavering smile.

He felt… whole, he felt like everything in his life had lead him to this moment, with Claude pressed close to him on the beach, his tail curling protectively around Dimitri’s naked calves, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

-

The cold bit into his flesh and Dimitri woke from his daze with a gasp, burrowing instinctively into the warmth in front of him, which he realized was Claude after a half-second of consciousness. Dimitri blinked awake, realizing that at some point, either he or Claude had worked his pants back on before they'd drifted off.

Claude blinked awake next to him, his expression unguarded and sweet and Dimitri wanted to kiss him, so he did. And then, he wanted to tell him, so he did:

“I love you.”

Claude didn’t appear to be expecting that and he went tense at the surprise of it, his tail shifting off of Dimitri and leaving him cold in the bracing wind. Slowly, Dimitri sat up and looked for the cart, which he found not too far from where he’d made the now-dying fire.

What did he expect? Perhaps Claude would laugh at him, perhaps he would mock him or try to let him down easy. Whatever he thought Claude might say, it was not this -

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed and he turned back to him, not quite understanding.

“What do you mean?”

Claude shrugged. “It’s only that - you know, in other cultures, people see my kind as a symbol of demise. They say we lead ships to crash against the rocks, steal the treasures inside, slurp the innards out from the men who drown.”

Dimitri blanched, _definitely_ not expecting that.

“Do you actually do that?”

“Well,” Claude started, and then shifted back uncomfortably, his fin roiling against the dirt, “no, but… you wouldn’t be able to live a normal life with me. We’d need to stay close to the sea, we’d need to migrate…”

“I don’t care.”

Dimitri moved to reach for his hand, tangling their fingers together. Holding Claude’s hand like this, he couldn’t reach up to brush the hair back from his eyes, but he leaned in all the same, pressing a kiss against his jaw.

“We’ll go to where it’s warm next winter. Take our summers here. I’ve never lived a normal life and I don’t intend to start now. I’ll stay with you, Claude, you won’t… I won’t let you be lonely anymore.”

Claude looked somewhat taken aback by that, as if he’d expected Dimitri to leave him to his needs, as if he hadn’t anticipated Dimitri realizing that he had been lonely in the first place. Still, he softened into Dimitri’s touch after a moment, easing himself into Dimitri’s strong arm and sighed.

“If that’s the case, then… I love you too.”

Dimitri’s heart felt full, fuller than it ever had, and he leaned in to kiss Claude again, but was stopped by Claude perking his head up, that devilish light igniting once again in his eyes.

“Do you know where the winters are mild?” he asked, reaching to tuck a strand of Dimitri’s hair behind his ear.

Dimitri felt suddenly as if he was being played, but moved into Claude’s touch anyway.

“Where?”

Claude’s smile was as sharp as the sunlight peeking over the horizon.

“The Alliance.”

All the air in the world could not fill Dimitri’s lungs just then. He felt the earth tip beneath them, off its axis, and then, suddenly, everything was clear. Everything was obvious. His path lay before him and he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he would not falter when he walked it, not with Claude by his side.

He didn’t have to reply, not in words. Claude saw his response in his face, and his own expression transformed into something that Dimitri could only describe as pride.

In almost a year, Dimitri had gone from a would-be king to a man, washed up on the beach with nothing, to a worker who had saved up enough to buy a home, to feed himself, to protect his allies, to fall in love.

Where could he be in another year?

 _The Alliance._ Claude’s words sprawled before him like his tapestry, echoing in his ears as he turned his gaze toward the sea and knew that somewhere far away, it waited for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience as I finished this beast of a third chapter! I appreciate all the feedback and comments for the story, and I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to follow me on twitter for more writing related stuff: [@unraelated](https://twitter.com/unraelated)!


End file.
